


Roomies

by captainrighthook



Series: Hell High [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:29:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainrighthook/pseuds/captainrighthook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fucking tits. It was eighth hour and that meant that Gerard got to go to Biology… Great. Just fucking great. He really, really hated that class more than he should have. There was a reason—it wasn’t just some random never-ending fire that burned in his stomach all day. It wasn’t even something, it was someone.</p><p>“You will be staying with your project partner over the duration of this fieldtrip. Now remember: It’s a week long, okay?” Mr. Urie held up a clipboard, “I have your room assignments right here.” Every student in the class strained their necks to see who they’d be staying with, but Mr. Urie quickly put the board down.</p><p>“Guys!” He laughed, “I can’t tell you who you’re staying with!” Everyone groaned in disappointment. “Hey, hey! I said I can’t tell you who you’re rooming with. I never said I couldn’t tell you who your partner for the project is.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Best Friends

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only fanfiction I've finished...oh God it's probably horrible.

_Fucking tits_. It was eighth hour and that meant that Gerard got to go to Biology… Great. Just fucking great. He really, _really_ hated that class more than he should have. There _was_ a reason—it wasn’t just some random never-ending fire that burned in his stomach all day. It wasn’t even something, it was some _one_.

“You will be staying with your project partner over the duration of this fieldtrip. Now remember: It’s a week long, okay?” Mr. Urie held up a clipboard, “I have your room assignments right here.” Every student in the class strained their necks to see who they’d be staying with, but Mr. Urie quickly put the board down.

“Guys!” He laughed, “I can’t _tell_ you who you’re staying with!” Everyone groaned in disappointment. “Hey, hey! I said I can’t tell you who you’re _rooming_ with. I never said I couldn’t tell you who your partner for the project is.” All the kids cheered, and Mr. Urie smiled slyly.

 _Oh dear lord_ , Gerard thought, rolling his eyes. Most people cared about who they would end up with. However, Gerard only cared about who he _wouldn’t_ end up with. He shudder at the mere thought of it; there was no way in fuck he was rooming with Fag Iero. Across the aisle, Frank was slouched over in his seat with his arms folded over his chest. His headphones were turned up to the point that even Gerard could hear the song—Desolation Row. One of his converse-clad feet was taping along to the beat and his head bobbed up and down to the beat, causing his messy black hair to sway a bit. His black long-sleeved shirt was pulled all the way down, but Gerard could still see him drumming his fingers on the table.

Something in Gerard’s head felt woozy, but he chose to ignore it. He cocked his head to the side, wondering what the odds would be of him ending up with Frank. _Probably quite slim_. He smiled to himself, and for the tenth time (this week), Frank caught him staring at him. Frank made a confused face, and Gerard scowled at him. He rolled his eyes and looked the other way.

Gerard cursed himself: _Goddamnit_. Why did he keep doing that? Whatever…it didn’t matter anyways. It was just Frank, after all. That was when the bell rang, and Frank grabbed his bag so fast that it nearly knocked over the desk, before he rushed out of the room. Gerard just stared after him.

Mr. Urie posted the project partners on his bulletin board, and all the kids rushed to see who they’d be stay with. For the most part, they were pretty happy with their partner, but there was the occasional “Oh my God I can’t believe I’m with _them_!” It then hit Gerard that Frank had left the room without even checking. _It’s probably because he doesn’t have any friends_ , Gerard thought with a smirk. He wasn’t exactly one to be talking, because he definitely only had five friends, but hey! That’s five more than Fag Iero had.

When the room had cleared out and Gerard walked up to the board, he was quite pleased to see that he was going to be staying with Brendon—Mr. Urie’s son. Kinda because it meant that they could do whatever they wanted, but mostly because Brendon was really fucking awesome.

When Gerard was leaving the room someone ran up to him, “Hey!” Brendon said cheerfully.

“Hey,” Gerard replied with a smile. “See we’re rooming together?” He waggled his eyebrows. Brendon elbowed him and rolled his eyes.

“Haha, yeah. I kinda pulled a few strings there,” Brendon smiled guiltily. “I didn’t want to be stuck with some weirdie like Fag Iero!” He exclaimed when Gerard started laughing at him. “Hey, man, I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Oh yeah,” Gerard laughed, “Bright and early!” But something about what Brendon had said just didn’t sit right with Gerard. He shrugged it off anyways, waved goodbye, and thanked God that he could finally go home. He still hadn’t even started packing for the trip, and to be honest? It was going to be completely fucking awesome; Brendon loved video games almost as much as Gerard did…but Brendon didn’t like a lot of movies, so that was a bust. Either way, it was gonna be really fuckin’ cool.

He thought he was in the clear for the rest of the day, but naturally he was wrong when Frank came out of the bathroom and bumped into him. Gerard’s heart started to beat a thousand miles a minute, but that was probably because he got really worked up when he talked to people he hated. Frank huffed, pulled his bag tighter over his shoulder, and just ignored him. He rolled his eyes and started to walk away. _How rude_ , Gerard thought. “Well, aren’t you going to apologize?” Gerard asked, reaching out and grabbing Frank’s wrist.

He hissed and drew his hand back quickly, clutching it to his chest. Gerard looked down at his own hand and was shocked to find it covered with blood. He looked up into Frank’s eyes and found tears there; he wasn’t sure how he felt…but it was bad.

“I’m sorry for bumping into you, Gerard,” Frank said, trying _so hard_ not to cry. “I’m sorry that I bumped into you, and then got my fag blood all over your hand. I think you’ll live, but I can’t say for sure. Be careful; you don’t want to catch The Emo.” Then Frank wiped angrily at his eyes as he turned and started to trudge down the empty hallway.

Gerard just stared after him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called, not really knowing what compelled him to say it. Frank paused, glanced over his shoulder, and then kept walking. He didn’t say anything. _That is messed up_ , Gerard thought as he looked down at his blood-covered hand.

Seriously messed up.

XxXxXxXxX

 

“Hey, sweetie!” Donna called to her son when he got home. Gerard almost didn’t hear her over the sound of his own thoughts…thoughts about Frank. He couldn’t get him out of his head, and it was seriously starting to become annoying.

“Uh, what?” Gerard looked up when he walked into the kitchen. “Oh…hi.” Her face was worried; she set down the towel she was using to dry to counter, and walked over to him. She looked down at his hand and gasped, grabbing it. “Oh my God!” She exclaimed. “Is this _your_ blood?” She asked in a concerned voice.

“No it’s my frie—it’s some kid’s.” Gerard mentally shook himself. What was wrong with him? Almost calling _Frank_ one of his _friends_?! Donna’s face grew upset, and she _tsk_ ed him, pulling him over to the sink.

“Wash it off,” she ordered. “Tell me about it…you didn’t get into a fight did you?!” She looked very worried, and Gerard almost grabbed her shoulders to calm her down before realizing he still had semi-wet blood on his hand. He turned the sink on and grabbed the bottle of soap.

“No, mom,” Gerard sighed. “I passed this kid in the hall, and…” he paused, wondering how to tell this story without sounding like a complete asshole. “All I remember is that I grabbed his wrist.” Gerard shrugged and dried his hands.

“Oh, honey, no,” Donna Way sounded quite worried. “Was he okay? Do I know him? What’s his name?”

 _Oh you know him, alright_ , Gerard thinks to himself angrily.

“Mom!” Gerard exclaimed, holding his hands up to stop her. “What’s the big deal?” She looked completely taken aback.

“Gerard Arthur Way, you know better than that.” She sounded quite disappointed in him. “Self-harm is a very serious issue and I want you to call this boy and make sure he’s okay, or else I’ll call the police.”

Gerard rolled his eyes, but inside his stomach was flip-flopping everywhere; he didn’t want to call Frank! What if he said something really fucking idiotic? _Ugh, like it matters_ anyways, he thought to himself. But on the other hand, his mom was definitely _not_ kidding about calling the police. She would totally do it in a heartbeat.

“Fine, whatever.” He went over to the phonebook only to realize that he already had Frank’s number memorized. He sighed in frustration, and punched in the numbers with angry fingers. Then he waited…

“Hello Mrs. Iero this is Gerard Way calling.” Frank and Gerard were friends as kids, so it wasn’t like he was calling a complete stranger.

“Oh, hello Gerard! How are you?”

“I’m doing quite fine, thanks. Hey, is Frank around by any chance?” Please say no, please say no, please say—

“Oh yes, hon, he just got home let me get him!”

Fuck!

“Thank you.”

“Mhmm, no problem!”

XxXxXxXxX

 

When Frank walked in, he was strategically holding his sweatshirt so that there would be no notice of blood if his mom happened to talk to him. He was really hoping to just dart upstairs, clean himself off, smoke a few cigarettes, and go to bed, but that plan was deterred when suddenly:

“Hey, hon, you have a phone call.” His mom peaked his head around the doorway to the living room, and she smiled at him.

He smiled back convincingly. “Who is it?”

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” she said, rolling her eyes. Frank felt his heart sink, and he just let out a short sigh. His mom smiled sympathetically, “I would say to tell him to stick it where the sun don’t shine, but I’m a mother first and a friend second, so I’m going to have to insist that you talk to him.”

“You’re fuckin’ awesome,” Frank grinned at her.

“Thank you honey,” she said. Then she added, “And don’t use that language in my house,” before she ducked out of the room.

Frank sat down on the couch and stared at the phone for a few seconds before deciding to just pick the damn thing up. He really hoped Gerard wasn’t calling for any personal reason whatsoever, and this was just a friendly phone call to ask if Frank could tell him what the notes for Bio were.

“What do you want, Way?”

“ _Don’t worry_ ,” Gerard said, sounding equally annoyed with the situation. “ _I’m not calling you because I want to. My mom made me_.”

Frank’s brows furrowed, “Why?”

“ _She kinda sorta saw your blood on my hand_.” And Frank could just picture him shrugging, and that made him really kinda mad. There was a long pause, “Great. Is she gonna, like, tell my mom or something?”

“ _Uh, no…okay, look, she said that if I didn’t call and make sure you were okay, she was gonna call the police.”_ Frank’s head started to feel woozy.

“Well, I’m fine. Thanks for calling.” And he was about to hang up when he heard Gerard say, “ _Frank, wait!_ ” Slowly he held the phone to his ear, hoping that Gerard would think he’d hung up, and disconnect.

“What?” Frank said eventually.

“ _Are you? Y’know…okay?_ ”

“Uh…yeah. Sure.”

On the other end, Gerard sighed, “ _Don’t bullshit me, Iero. C’mon tell me the truth; are you okay?_ ”

Frank felt the anger rise inside him, “The truth?” He repeated, “Okay here goes: No. I’m not okay. I haven’t been for a long time. I’ve done this since I was ten, okay? I’m a big-boy, I can handle myself.” He hadn’t really planned on saying all of that, but it came out nonetheless.

“ _Well, sorry that I care!_ ” Gerard spat back. And then the line went dead, and Frank hoped that Gerard felt really, _really_ bad about what had happened.

XxXxXxXxX

 

“Gerard!” His mom called. He hung up the phone, and walked into the living room and waited for her to say something, “How’d it go?”

Gerard sighed, “Not good. But he’s fine.”

“Thank you for calling, sweetie.”

“Any time.”

XxXxXxXxX

 

“And you’re _positive_ that you’ve packed everything?” Donna asked at the airport. Gerard smiled sleepily, and nodded. “You’ve got your ID? Do you have your cell? Video games? Tooth-brush? Eyeliner?”

Gerard laughed and pushed her hands away as they started to check every part of him for something missing. “Yes! I have all of that. I’m good mom. I promise.” Donna smiled and gave Gerard a big hug before turning to the totally apathetic 16 year old kid standing next to her. “Mikey, say goodbye to your brother.”

“Bye.” Mikey said curtly. Donna hit Mikey in the back of the head. “Ow, what was that for?!” He asked, giving her an angry look.

“Hug him, Michael.” She frowned at him. Mikey looked at Gerard and then at his mom. He looked at Gerard again, and they both took each other’s hands, shaking briefly, and then pulling apart. “Ugh, you two!” Their mom rolled her eyes.

“Are you really that mad that I’m taking Nightmare on Elm Street with me?” Gerard asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Yes.” Mikey said, not looking at him.

“Get over yourself,” Gerard said, shaking his head. Across the room, Mr. Urie called for all the kids to gather around, and Gerard felt some weird kind of excitement building up in his chest. “I have to go,” he told them.

“Okay, honey!” She said, kissing the top of his head. “I love you!”

“Love you too,” he smiled. Then he reached out and ruffled Mikey’s hair, “Bye Mikes.” Mikey just gave him a small smile and a wave; oh he would so _totally_ miss Gerard. It was nearly impossible for him to pretend like he was angry at his brother.

Gerard walked over to the group, tapping Brendon on the shoulder and smiling at him. Brendon smiled back and then turned his attention to his dad. Gerard didn’t really think about it, but he then realized that he had subconsciously been looking for Frank.

He felt annoyed with himself, and even more so when a wash of relief and a flurry of butterflies overtake him when he finally spotted Frank at the back of the group. _Damnit_! Gerard thought, _Why should I even care? It’s just Frank_! He forced himself to ignore that little fucking annoying voice that teased him—‘You like Frank, you like Frank! Just admit it Gerard!’—and just focus on the trip.

It was a perfect plan; practically fool proof. He stayed engaged in conversation with Brendon all through security and boarding the plane. He slept during the two-hour flight as he sat next to Brendon who then fell asleep on top of Gerard. Even when they got off the plane and hopped on the bus to the lodge where they’d be staying, he was talking with Brendon. It worked all the way up to the point where they all got room keys, and Gerard was pulled aside.

“Hey, Gerard!” Mr. Urie said, smiling brightly.

“Hey, Mr. Urie. What’s up?” Gerard smiled back.

“This morning one of the students got sick and they were not able to come on the trip,” he shrugged. “Because of that I had to rearrange a few of the rooms. Brendon is staying with me now, but don’t worry! I still have someone for you to stay with.” Something in Gerard’s gut told him that this was _not_ a good idea. Something told him that he wouldn’t really be enjoying this trip after all. With his luck, Gerard knew exactly who he’d be staying with, but what was going to do? Refuse?

“Oh, that’s fine!” Gerard said, smiling like it wasn’t the biggest fucking deal in the whole world, which it totally was.

Mr. Urie looked relieved, “Oh, good! Now you can go up and get unpacked.” He handed Gerard a key, “Remember that this is a social experiment to see how living with another person affects the human body. We _will_ be taking hikes throughout the week, so set aside a few hours in the afternoons. Other than that, just have fun!”

“Can do!” Gerard smiled, waving goodbye to his teacher. Then he stalked to the elevator and punched the button angrily. _This is going to suck major ass_. He had this sinking feeling in his chest that was not positive at all. The entire time he was on the elevator he was thinking _No, no, no, no, no…_

Slowly, like he was in a funeral procession, he walked to the door, and stared at it. He put his card in the slot and turned the knob. For a second he was hopeful and thought _Maybe it’s not him after all_! But lo and behold…

Frank looked up from his suitcase, his headphones around his neck. When he spotted Gerard he quickly pulled the headphones up, and went back to whatever he had been doing before. Gerard didn’t say anything; just shut the door behind himself and dropped his shit in the middle of the floor. Frank snatched something out of his bag, and pushed past Gerard muttering something like, “Fan-fucking-tastic…” before leaving the room. Then Gerard was just all alone.

He looked around hopelessly before falling, face first, onto his bed. He sighed into the sheets, “ _Fuck_.”

XxXxXxXxX

 

“But you _don’t understand_!” Frank pleaded.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” Mr. Urie said with a troubled frown. “I really can’t do anything about it. I wish I could, but you’re just gonna have to stay with Gerard.” Ugh, he really couldn’t do this; stay with Gerard? No fucking way…not happening at all.

“Fine,” he grumbled. Then he turned to walk away, ignoring anything else Mr. Urie said by putting his headphones on. Frank knew this trip was going to be a bad idea. When he originally was supposed to stay with Ray, Frank thought to himself _Okay, that’s fine. Ray is friends with Gerard, but he’s nice to everyone_. He didn’t have to worry about being picked on, and wanting to fucking murder himself, when he thought that he was with Ray. Gerard changed all of that.

Down the hallway, Frank spotted Bert, Gabe, Bill, and Travis, and his stomach dropped. Gerard may only verbally abuse him, but those guys have left a few bruises and broken bones in their wake before. The last thing he wanted—even less than being with Gerard—was to have to deal with them. He thought that maybe he could avoid them since this was a social/domestic experiment in the first place. However, he was one step behind them, because when he was searching for an exit door, they had spotted him.

“Hey guys, look!” Bill said, pointing at Frank. “It’s our best friend, Fag Iero!” That nickname usually didn’t leave any affect on him when Gerard said it, but when someone else said it? It fucking hurt more than a broken nose.

“Bill, please.” Frank pleaded, backing up slowly. But Bill just smiled, and Bert and Travis started to advance. Frank knew it was useless to run, so he met them head on, and walked right up to Bert, turning his head to the perfect angle so that Bert could hit him but not mess up his face.

“Aw,” Bert said, reeling his fist back. “Thanks bud.” And he let it go. Frank felt pain explode behind his eyes, and wondered if he had actually broken his jaw, but no it was just…sore. Really, _really_ sore.

“Fuck,” Frank mumbled, stumbling backwards, and trying to stay upright. He heard Bert, Bill, and Travis laugh. When his vision cleared, he noticed that Gabe was nowhere in sight. _Huh?_ And then it dawned on Frank that Gabe had never once hit him, called him a name, or shoved him around in the hallways. He was one of the only students at their school who hadn’t actually injured Frank in any way…but he had let it happen, so Frank figured that was just as bad. “ _Please_!” Frank begged.

“Oh no,” Travis chuckled darkly. “We’re just getting started.

Shit.

XxXxXxXxX

 

Gerard awoke with a bit of a start when he heard someone slam the door. “ _Motherfuck! God fucking damnit!_ ” The voice was harsh, quiet, and familiar. “ _Shit…shit, shit, shit. Fuck!_ ” Gerard knew that was Frank talking; who else would it be? It was pitch black in the room except for the digital clock that read 11:00 PM in bold red letters. Had he really slept that long? All the way from noon to eleven? He was probably just really fucking exhausted…

“ _Tits…_ ” he heard Frank bite out. Gerard frowned. Okay…what? He reached over to the bedside table and flicked the light on, sitting up and looking around. He didn’t see anything, but he heard a loud thud come from the hallway, and figured that’s most likely where Frank is. He stood up and flicked on the main light, making his way to the hall.

“Uhm,” Gerard said, raising one eyebrow, “Are you okay?”

Frank, who was leaning against the door, holding his stomach like if he moved his guts would fall out, looked at him and spit out a mouthful of blood. “Yeah,” he said sarcastically. “I’m just fucking peachy!” Gerard didn’t really know what he was supposed to do; Frank looked really bad. Like, _really_ bad. Should he get Mr. Urie? Call the police? Call Frank’s mom?!

“You’re not lookin’ too good,” Gerard said when Frank pushed past him and staggered into the room slowly. Frank unzipped his sweatshirt and threw it in the corner. “No shit, Sherlock!” He said, narrowing his eyes and pulling his shirt off. Gerard’s eyes widened, and it wasn’t even because of the number of bruises that were starting to form; he just couldn’t stop staring at Frank’s arms, or at his back and stomach. He knew Frank had a few tattoos—you could see the one on his neck, and on his fingers—but he had never really expected _this_. And suddenly, Frank became ten times more attractive than he already was.

“Stop staring, asshole!” Frank rolled his eyes, and examined himself in the mirror on the wall. “Not bad,” he said, nodding decisively. “Not bad at all…” his voice trailed off, and he kept looking at the dark black and purple spots across his chest.

“What even happened?” Gerard asked, sitting down on his bed.

“Does it really matter?” Frank asked. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Gerard lied, shrugging casually.

“Well, the official story is that I fell down the stairs.” Frank told him. He kicked off his shoes, and unzipped his pants, and Gerard just had to look away. Half-naked Frank plus very much “in-love” Gerard equals very bad near rape experience.

“How many times?” He asked.

“Four,” Frank said, scratching his head. He used his shirt to wipe off any excess blood, and then threw it in the corner.

“Seriously?” Gerard asked. “How do you expect anyone to believe that? You look like you got run over by a semi.”

“Ha,” Frank laughed sarcastically, “I wish I had gotten run over by a semi.” Then there was silence between the two as they both got ready for bed (as if Gerard needed more sleep). When they were sitting on their own beds, Frank holding a cold rag to his nose and Gerard twiddling his thumbs, both of them just in their underwear, one of them finally spoke again.

“You’re really not gonna tell me who did it, are you?” Gerard asked.

Frank shook his head, “Nope.”

Then there was another long pause, “I don't remember if you knew, but... One time, like ten years ago, Mikey fell out of a tree and landed face-first on this huge ass pile of leaves that had a bunch of twigs in it.” Gerard was telling the story while avoiding looking at Frank. “His face looked a lot like that.” Frank wasn’t sure what the point of the story was, but for some reason it was really comforting to hear. Gerard got up to turn the main light off, and then jumped in his bed and turned off the table lamp. It was completely dark…and that darkness seemed very loud in Frank’s ears.

“Although,” Gerard added quietly. “I don’t think those twigs punched him and broke his nose.”

“I guess stairs punch harder.”

XxXxXxXxX

 

In the morning, Frank looked twenty times worse than he had the night before. His legs had only a few cuts and bruises, as well as his arms, and his face only sported a deep purple bruise across his nose along with a cut right above his eye. The worst? The worst was his back. All down his spine and along his ribs were black and yellowing spots. There was a cut on his shoulder, and Gerard was wondering how the fuck he got a cut on the middle of his back in that spot that was impossible to reach.

“Just leave it alone, okay?” Frank asked as he yanked a shirt on. He looked in the mirror and gently pressed on the top of his nose, grimacing at the pain.

“I’m not gonna just leave it alone, Frank!” Gerard was pacing back and forth.

“Will you stop pacing?” Frank said, looking at him in the mirror. “It’s making me anxious.” Gerard just sneered at him and kept pacing. “I thought you didn’t care anyway, right?” That made Gerard stop, and he stood there, frowning at the ground. Frank rolled his eyes and kept poking at his nose, making pained faces.

“I don’t care, okay?” Gerard said.

“Well, stop trying to convince me,” Frank said. “Because it sounds like you need to convince yourself first.”

“ _I don’t_!” Gerard said, glaring at him.

“That’s more like it,” Frank murmured under his breath.

Gerard made a frustrated noise, “I’m just curious. Is that so wrong?”

Frank turned around and looked at him. “If you don’t say _anything_ to _anyone_ I’ll tell you.” He was just so fucking sick of Gerard asking him! Why did he care anyways? They were done with the whole friendship thing…they had been for a long time.

“I won’t,” Gerard said, rolling his eyes. “I hardly care _that_ much. Just tell me what actually happened.”

Frank looked at him with contempt before taking a deep breath and looking away. “I wasn’t lying when I said I fell down the stairs four times,” Frank shrugged. “I was just…pushed.”

Gerard’s face grew uneasy, “I mean, I honestly don’t care, but…that seriously could have hurt you.”

Frank looked at him like he was stupid and then gestured to himself, “In case you didn’t notice? I _was_ seriously hurt. People don’t just cough up blood for shits and giggles, Gerard.” He cringed at Frank’s words; of course he knew that Frank got hurt. He was just shocked that he wasn’t _more_ hurt than he already seemed. However, there was one thing that was bothering him.

“This happens a lot doesn’t it?” Gerard asked hesitantly, noting that Frank didn’t really seem mad at anyone but him.

“That doesn’t matter,” Frank said, suddenly shutting himself off. He was _not_ going to get onto that topic. All Gerard wanted to know is what happened, right? So why does it matter how often this happens? The answer: it doesn’t.

“Frank,” Gerard started.

“Nope,” Frank said, pushing himself away from the table and grabbing his room key. He opened the door, “It just…doesn’t matter.” Then he left.

“But that’s the thing.” Gerard said to nobody. “It _does_ matter.”

XxXxXxXxX

 

“Ha, how many cups of coffee did you drink?” Brendon asked, laughing at Gerard who was practically vibrating in his seat. They were on the bus on their way to the local wildlife preservation park and Gerard had decided that if he had to be outside, he could allow himself three more cups than usual.

“I don’t know,” Gerard said. “But it wasn’t enough.” Coffee was like alcohol for Gerard, and right now he needed a lot of it to drown out the continuous thoughts of Frank that he was having. Every time he pictured those bruises, this sickeningly strong hatred and need to murder whoever did it would rise up in him, and he wasn’t too excited about that. Part of him wanted to just tell Frank that _yes_ he _did_ care. The other part of him rationalized that if he said something, not only would Frank probably reject him, all of his friends would reject him too.

“Oh, trust me,” Brendon said, “You drank ten too many cups.” Gerard made a face at him and practically jumped out of his seat when the bus stopped. The class spilled out of the bus and waited for Mr. Urie to give them directions before setting them free.

Frank walked up to him, “Don’t worry,” he said, “You don’t have to work with me.”

Gerard frowned, “Uh, yeah, I kinda do.”

“But I’m saying you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, and I’m saying that I…” his voice trailed off and he shrugged. “Want to. I mean, I have to.” He really hoped that Frank was just mad at him enough to completely ignore his social awkwardness.

“Whatever,” Frank said, rolling his eyes. Their assignment was to find different flowers and identify them according to their colour and shape. Then they had to write down what they might use each flower for and turn their paper in after two hours.

“Hey, Gerard!” Brendon jogged up to him. “I’m gonna work with you guys since I don’t really wanna work alone. Plus I figured you could use a friend.” And that was the moment that Gerard wanted to just _die_. Brendon was talking as if Frank _wasn’t_ standing right next to him, and Gerard felt his face get hot.

“Uh, okay,” Gerard said, smiling back awkwardly.

“Don’t worry,” Brendon said. “It’s not like he doesn’t know we don’t like him.” Then Brendon started walking leaving Gerard to stare after him stupidly.

“I-I don’t…”

Frank looked at him, “I said you didn’t have to work with me.”

“Shut up.” Gerard snapped, storming away. When he was a few feet away he turned around and looked at Frank, “Come on, you idiot!” Then he kept walking. If he had seen Frank he would have known that he was smiling.

XxXxXxXxX

 

“What would you use roses for?” Frank asked.

Gerard shrugged and picked at the grass by his feet. “I guess I’d give them to someone I love.” He knew how girly his answer was, but it was the truth. Besides, don’t most people give roses to people they love?

“I’d give roses to someone for good luck,” Brendon said. They were sitting in a field, thinking of things they’d use flowers for. It was a lot harder than they had thought; well, it was a lot harder than Gerard and Brendon thought. Frank was good at Biology, and Mr. Urie thought he was a cool kid, so no matter what bullshit he put on his paper he was going to get an A on it.

Bert, Bill, Travis, and Gabe emerged from a nearby clearing, holding a flower and trying to figure out what the fuck it was. Frank stared at them icily, but it was only for a brief second. He rolled his eyes. _It’s a fucking tulip you dumbasses_. However, he was definitely _not_ going to say that.

Travis, who had overheard Brendon’s comment, scoffed at them. “You don’t give roses to someone for good luck,” he said like it was the dumbest fucking idea in the world. “You give them _lilies_!” Bill and Bert murmured their agreement, and Gabe remained silent. Gerard regarded them silently, and then looked at Frank. He noted tension between them, and frowned to himself, wondering what that could be about.

Frank sputtered a laugh, and avoided Travis’ glare. “I’d give _you_ lilies for good luck…” he murmured under his breath, knowing full well that everybody could hear him. Bert, Bill, and Travis glared at him—Gabe stood there awkwardly. Brendon looked shocked that Frank would say something at all to them while Gerard just started laughing.

Brendon then turned his shocked look onto Gerard and hissed, “Gerard, that wasn’t funny.” The last thing that Brendon wanted to do was piss off Bert, Bill, and Travis; they were some scary-ass dudes, and could leave some serious damage.

“Are you shitting me, Bren?” He asked, wiping tears out of the corners of his eyes. Then he looked at Bert, Travis, Bill, and Gabe, then back to Brendon, and then at Frank who looked…worried? Seriously, what was wrong with him?

“Yes,” Brendon gritted through his teeth. “It’s _really not funny_.”

Gerard’s brows furrowed, “Do you even know what lilies are used for?”

Brendon glanced behind him only to look into the faces of three intimidating and one miserable boys who looked ready to get their hands around _someone’s neck_. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “For luck?”

Gerard looked at Travis—they were not friends…no not at all. They weren’t enemies either. They generally regarded each other as living, breathing human beings and nothing more than that. “No,” he said slowly, as if trying to put the concept carefully for those who weren’t smart enough to get it the first time. “Usually lilies are put on someone’s gravestone.” And it took them a minute, but eventually everyone else understood what Frank had _really_ just said to Travis.

“Oh, you are _so_ dead, midget!” Bert pointed at Frank, and then he shook his head in anger. Frank had been hoping that nobody would have understood his joke, and that he could have insulted Travis without there being any consequences. Naturally, Gerard had to be there to fuck things up.

“If you kill me, will you give me roses or lilies?” Frank asked innocently, knowing that he was definitely going to be murdered, but not exactly caring anymore. Travis started towards Frank who visibly cringed, as if waiting for a blow to the stomach, but then Gabe grabbed Travis and spun him around.

“Dude,” he said, glancing at Frank over Travis’ shoulder. “He’s not worth it."

Gerard could tell Travis was debating if Frank _was_ worth it or not—somewhere deep inside, he could tell that getting in trouble was definitely worth hurting someone who had slandered his honor. Another part of him knew that Gabe was right. Luckily, he listened to that part.

“Fine,” Travis said. He glared at Frank, “Just fucking wait, Fag.” Gerard felt a hot, deep hatred rise up inside of him, and had the serious urge to murder Travis where he stood. “You’ll regret saying that to me.” Then they all started to leave and when they had gotten just far away enough to hear him, but not immediately beat the shit out of him, he said, “You mean you didn’t before?”

It dawned on Gerard that Travis had been the one to push Frank down the stairs. Bert, Bill, and Gabe had probably helped… and he desperately wanted to throw up everywhere. Part of him would always deny it, but Gerard was okay with accepting the fact that he was, basically, in love with Frank.

Oh God…he was _in love_ with _Frank_?!

“Fuck,” Gerard murmured, completely ignoring the weird look that he received from Brendon, and the blank stare he received from Frank.

XxXxXxXxX

 

That night had passed without a hitch, and things went just as smooth as they normally did, except Frank didn’t come back to the room with any broken bones. Gerard wanted, _so desperately_ , to just get the fuck over himself and say something to Frank, but he was too afraid of rejection. It was so much easier to pretend to hate someone, than it was to pretend you didn’t love someone.

Gerard didn’t want to pretend, though.

He wanted it to be real; he wanted Frank.


	2. Ex-Friends to The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You fucked up your reputation,” Frank sighed in frustration. “People are gonna start to treat you differently, and you’re gonna blame it all on me, but it’s not my fault, Gerard, okay? It’s yours! It’s your fault!” He looked like he was close to tears. “Why do you care anyway, huh? Why do I even matter? I thought you didn’t care. I thought you hated me, right?”

“ _What did you do_?!” Frank yelled when he walked in the room and slammed the door. He was absolutely furious, and Gerard had absolutely no idea why. Gerard literally hadn’t done anything that could have upset him…well, that was a lie, but at least he thought he hadn’t done anything recently.

“What?” Gerard asked, pausing his video game and sitting up.

“ _What. Did. You._ Do?!” He was two seconds away from grabbing Gerard and shaking him by the shoulders. Gerard set down the game, and stood up, wondering if he should try and calm Frank down or just run away.

“I didn’t do anything! What are you talking about?”

“I was just downstairs,” Frank said bitterly, “and guess what happened?” When Gerard didn’t say anything he continued, “Travis walked up to me and fucking _apologized_ for what happened! What did you do?!” Oh… _that_ was what he was talking about? Gerard, after piecing together that Travis was more of an asshole than originally thought, had sought him out and told him that if he didn’t apologize to Frank, he was going to tell Mr. Urie what had happened. Travis, actually being somewhat scared of Gerard, didn’t seem pleased about the whole idea, but agreed nonetheless.

“I just talked to him!” Gerard said. “What’s wrong with that?”

“ _What’s wrong with that_?” Frank repeated, getting louder than he was before, if that was even possible. “What’s wrong with that is that you just fucked up your entire high school reputation!” Wow…Gerard was definitely not expecting that one. Frank had rationalized that the real reason he didn’t want Gerard involved was because he was afraid of what Gerard would do, and then Gerard would hate him forever because he had ‘fucked everything up’ when in reality, it was all Gerard’s fault.

“Are you—what do you…huh?”

“You _fucked up_ your _reputation_ ,” Frank sighed in frustration. “People are gonna start to treat you differently, and you’re gonna blame it all on me, but it’s _not_ my fault, Gerard, okay? It’s _yours_! It’s _your fault_!” He looked like he was close to tears. “Why do you care anyway, huh? Why do I even matter? I thought you didn’t care. I thought you hated me, right?”

“Oh my God, Frank,” Gerard said, nearly losing his mind. “I _don’t hate you_! Not even a little bit, okay? And just shut the fuck up about not being important!” To see Frank, who was so calm after being pushed down the motherfucking stairs _four times_ , crying because of Gerard, was too much for him to handle. Gerard didn’t look at Frank and see someone he had to pretend to hate anymore; he saw someone he’d be proud to call a friend. Someone he’d be proud to want, all the goddamned time. Someone he already did want all the goddamned time.

“Stop!” Frank begged. “Just stop, okay? The last thing I need in my life is to believe that someone cares, because they _don’t_. They never do.”

“Why are you so afraid of – of…” Gerard didn’t even know where he was going with this, but he hoped that he would think of something soon because he wasn’t sure if Frank was going to stick around to hear it. “People,” Gerard finally said. “Why are you _so afraid_ of people?!”

“I’m not afraid of people,” Frank said, his eyes void of emotion. “I’m disgusted with them. And if you were me, you’d feel that way too.” Then he shoved Gerard out of his way and crawled under his covers, shoes and all, pulling the blanket up over his head.

“Frank,” Gerard sighed angrily.

“Go away,” he yelled. “I’m sleeping!”

“Dude,” Gerard said, “It’s, like, five in the afternoon.” However, there was no response, “You do realize that we have to leave in five minutes, right?” There was a long pause but eventually there came a mumbled reply, “I’m not going.” Gerard rolled his eyes and sat down on his bed.

Gerard laughed sarcastically, “What do you mean you’re not going?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, you idiot,” Frank said. “I’m _not going_.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you called me an idiot…” Gerard said, gritting his teeth. Then he remembered what Frank had said, “Wait…Why?” The only reply was a deafening silence. “There is literally no good reason for you _not_ to go.”

“How about the fact that I hate you?” Normally, Gerard would completely believe him, but this time he sounded like he was actually joking, so Gerard didn’t feel compelled to say something mean in response.

“Mmm,” he said, “Not good enough.”

Frank fake coughed really pathetically and then said, “I’m sick.”

“Boo, you whore,” Gerard said, leaning over to Frank’s bed and yanking the covers off of his head. Frank rolled over and looked at him, his jaw dropped and his eyes wide. “You did _not_ just quote ‘Mean Girls’ at me!”

Gerard laughed, “I think I did.”

“You suck,” Frank rolled his eyes and Gerard laughed at him, “Shut up, I hate you.” This just made Gerard laugh even harder.

“That is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Gerard said, leaning back on his pillows. Frank stuck out his tongue at Gerard but Gerard just laughed again. Frank threw a pillow at him and he caught it.

They lay in comfortable silence for a while before Gerard said, “Frank?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I be your friend?” Gerard had been contemplating saying that for a while now, and it just felt like the right time. He knew it was a risk, but if it meant Frank wouldn’t be mad at him, it was a risk he was willing to take. Frank just sat up and looked at him like he had said some horribly vulgar thing about his mother.

“What?” He could barely get the word out.

“Can I be your friend?” Gerard repeated, sitting up and looking at him.

“Why would you want to be my friend?”

“Because I figure that if I hate you sometimes, and I hate Brendon sometimes, then you can both be considered my friends.”

“If you ever compare me to that fucking idiot ever again, I might actually murder you without a second thought.” Frank only sounded half-serious, so Gerard decided not to worry about it.

“Yeah,” Gerard said. “Brendon’s and asshole.”

“Ha, and I’m _not_?!”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “You’re just Frank.”

“Thanks?” His brows furrowed together, and Gerard was about to reply when there came a knock on the door. _Oops…_ they were supposed to be leaving right now to go to the museum, but now Gerard kinda didn’t want to go.

“Hey, Gerard!” Mr. Urie greeted when the door opened.

“Oh hey, Mr. U.” Gerard replied with a smile.

“Are you guys ready to go?”

“I’m not going!” Frank called to them.

“Well is he sick?” Mr. Urie asked Gerard. He rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway.

“Yeah,” Gerard sighed. “And I’m probably not going to go either.”

“Why not?”

“Well,” Gerard said, carefully constructing a good answer in his head. “I figure that we can’t leave him here alone, even if he is an adult. He’s my roommate so I think that designates me as his babysitter.”

“I don’t need a baby sitter!” Frank yelled, but Gerard could hear the smile in his voice.

“Actually,” Mr. Urie said, looking at Gerard with a proud smile. “I think that’s a good idea. We definitely shouldn’t be leaving a student here alone. Try to at least do something productive while we’re gone, okay?”

“Sure,” Gerard shrugged before shutting the door.

“You’re such an asshole.” Frank said when Gerard came back in sight.

Gerard picked up his game again and put it away before jumping on the bed. “I know I am, but you’re my friend anyway.”

“Who said I was your friend?” Frank laughed.

“Me.” Frank, who was used to nothing but cruel words from Gerard, looked at him and cocked his head to the side. He was just thinking about what would happen if Gerard had never asked to be his friend again…how long could he last? Gerard was the best thing to ever happen to Frank, and when they stopped being friends, it almost killed him…it still does every day.

“I’m not sure you have the authority to decide that,” Frank said. “But I’ll let it slide this time.” Then he smiled and Gerard smiled back, and something in Frank’s chest kicked him. He sighed to himself, knowing that he was so gone for.

XxXxXxXxX

 

An hour and a half later and they were in their pajamas, sitting on Gerard’s bed (because Frank accidentally spilled a giant-ass cup of water all over his), trying to kill each other in an intense game of COD. Gerard had cheated a few times and tried to knock Frank off the bed, but Frank was more resilient than that and told Gerard that it was going to take a lot more to get him to lose.

They way they acted around each other now…it was like falling back into a regular old routine. Gerard would suggest something, Frank would say no and then suggest something, Gerard would usually say fine (because even back then he had feelings for Frank), but when he didn’t they would end up either sleeping or eating pizza. Sure it was a bit strange to laugh—in good humor—at someone who you said you hated only hours before, but they hardly seemed to notice. There was a bit of growing tension between them, but that was probably because they both horny teenagers, and in love with each other, and neither of them knew it, and they were stupid.

After Frank had beaten Gerard (three times in a row), he was a sore loser and turned the PlayStation off. Frank went to lay on his own bed, and Gerard was just looking for something to do when he remembered… “Hey do you wanna watch Nightmare on Elm Street? I was gonna watch it by myself, cause Brendon hates horror movies—”

“ _Hates horror movies_!?” Frank asked, sitting up and looking at Gerard like he was crazy—Gerard wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. “Nobody hates horror movies!” Frank scooted to the edge of his bed and crossed his legs. “Does he hate any other awesome movies?”

“He hates every movie that I brought,” Gerard rolled his eyes, and laid down on his bed. “Night of the Living Dead, Trick-r-Treat, Nosferatu, Dracula, Creature from the Black Lagoon, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter—”

“Oh my God,” Frank said, shaking his head in disbelief. “How are you friends with him? Okay, yeah, some people may not like scary movies, but _Harry Potter_?! _Lord of the motherfucking Rings_!? _Star Wars_?!?!?! How do you hate those movies?! That’s like hating Doom Patrol!”

Gerard sat up and looked at Frank, laughing slightly, “Oh my God, will you marry me, please?!” And Gerard was only half joking when he asked that question. To be married to that nerdy hot piece of ass? No complaints here.

“Hm,” Frank said, scrunching up his nose as best as he could without hurting himself. “Maybe when we’re older.”

“Deal,” Gerard said, rolling off the bed and searching through his luggage to find the movie. “Although, even when we weren’t friends, you were more of a friend then they were.” And Frank didn’t really know how to take that, so he just said “Good” and then was silent. Gerard set up the TV, put the DVD in, grabbed the remote, and pressed play. When he turned back around he was shocked to see that Frank had crawled onto his bed. Frank patted the spot next to him; Gerard smiled and joined him.

“Y’know,” Gerard said, not looking at Frank, but still smiling. “You’re a pretty fuckin’ cool guy.” Frank looked at him and smiled before elbowing him in the side gently, “Well, y’know, you _did_ ask me to marry you.” Gerard laughed and elbowed him back. For forty-five minutes they sat in comfortable silence, and then something hit Gerard like a sack of bricks.

He paused the movie, sat up, and turned to Frank. “Can I ask you about something?” He asked hesitantly.

“Uhm,” Frank said, sitting up but not looking at him. “I guess?”

“I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I was just…i-it was just bugging me.” And he jumped slightly when he felt Frank’s hand on his arm. It seemed to sear his skin and send electricity through his extremities.

“Gerard,” Frank said, looking at him with earnest eyes. “You verbally abused me every day of my life for the past eight years and I immediately forgave you. I’m pretty sure that at this point there is literally nothing you could ask that I wouldn’t tell you.” Gerard knew that was supposed to make him feel better, but it only made him feel like a giant asshole who missed out on having a fucking amazing best friend because he was too much of a twat to realize what was important. He had felt like that for a long time now. He grabbed Frank’s forearm and looked down at all his tattoos, running his fingers over the clean white bandage that was over his wrist.

“I just…first of all, I wanted you to know that I wasn’t lying. When I asked if you were okay…I really do care.” Frank looked down at Gerard’s fingers that seemed to leave a trail of fire in their wake. He swallowed hard but didn’t say anything. “Y-you’ve been doing this shit for eight years, man? How come I never knew before?”

Frank shrugged and started to pick at a loose thread on the comforter with his other hand. “You were too busy making fun of me to actually care.” Something inside of Gerard exploded into a million tiny pieces, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was located somewhere in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to grab Frank’s face and kiss him so hard it hurt, but figured that was taking the whole ‘friend’ thing a bit too far.

“You gave me something to notice,” Gerard smiled sadly. “You were special… you still are.” Frank tried very hard, but in the end he completely failed at hiding the smile that pulled at his lips.

He (not-so-subtly) entwined his fingers between Gerard’s and held his hand tightly. Gerard didn’t know what to do except stare at him—even with a not-really-black-anymore bruise on his face, and a cut above his eye, he was still the most beautiful thing that Gerard had ever seen.

“You know,” Frank said, marveling at how perfectly his hand fit in Gerard’s. “Eight years ago is when you—”

“Stopped being friends with you,” Gerard said miserably. “I know.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself.” Frank said, keeping his eyes trained on their hands. “Eight years ago was also the first time that Bert, Bill, and Travis beat the crap out of me…Gabe just kinda stood there looking miserable.” He shrugged, but if he had been looking at Gerard he would have seen the angry tears that welled up in his eyes; who the fuck thinks they can hurt Frank? Okay, yeah, Gerard wasn’t really one to talk, but in the long run, Gerard had still been in love with him the entire time. When people say “If a boy picks on you it’s because he likes you” they weren’t lying.

“I fucking hate those guys,” Gerard said, just loud enough for Frank to actually hear; he looked up, startled, and his face fell when he saw Gerard’s. “They’re just…they don’t deserve to die, but if they did I’m not sure I’d be sorry.”

“ _Don’t blame yourself_.” Frank said, wiping away the one tear that escaped and smiling at him. He didn’t want Gerard to feel bad for something he didn’t directly cause. If he didn’t blame Gerard, why should he blame himself?

“Why not?” He asked, staring at Frank, trying to communicate some long forgotten words that he just couldn’t voice.

“Because _you’re_ not the one who broke my arm, okay?”

Gerard laughed slightly. Breaking arms… _that_ brought back memories. “But Frank, you _don’t_ _understand_! If I had just _been_ there for you…if I had still been your friend—”

“No,” Frank said, shaking his head and letting go of Gerard’s hand. “I will not let you blame yourself for this.”

“Then tell me, Frank.” Gerard said, sniffing slightly. “Tell me _exactly_ why you started to cut yourself.” Frank didn’t say anything, just averted his gaze. “See!” Gerard said, putting his head in his hands. “I treated you like _shit_ , and I was the worst friend anyone could ask for, and I was just so…so blind. Even when we _weren’t_ friends, you were the only person I ever wanted to talk to. I got so mad at you because I just wanted you to stop.”

“Stop what?” Frank asked, wanting to hear him just talk, his heart practically leaping right out of his chest, and climbing his ribcage like an anxious bird.  

“I wanted you to stop distracting me from living.” Gerard said, laughing at himself. “I wanted you to stop making me want to be a better person. I wanted you to stop being the only thing that I could think about. I wanted…” he stopped before he went too far and said something he knew he would regret. “I don’t know,” he shrugged and tried to sound casual, “I just wanted you.” Frank didn’t say anything, he just grabbed the remote and unpaused the movie, leaning back on the pillows.

Gerard joined him, and Frank instinctively leaned into him. Gerard noticed, but he wasn’t about to say something. Instead he smiled fondly, and wondered what it would be like if they were more than friends.

XxXxXxXxX

 

When the movie ended at 8:30, Frank had gotten up and disappeared. Gerard, who was too tired to really care at that moment, fell asleep. Gerard wasn’t sure when he woke up, but it was dark outside, so it must have been pretty late. It was humid, and smelled like soap, so Gerard figured that Frank probably took a shower. For some reason, that thought got him all hot and bothered. _Ugh_ , Gerard thought, _stop thinking about fucking him all the goddamned time_! He rolled over, groaning slightly, and sat up, looking around groggily. He saw Frank in his underwear, sitting on the open windowsill smoking a cigarette…and it was probably the fucking hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Fuck,” he whined as his pants suddenly became tighter. Frank, who had been staring out the window, turned at the sound, and Gerard knew he was staring, but he really couldn’t care less.

“Oh, hey,” Frank said, smiling slightly. It’s not that Gerard hadn’t noticed before, because he _definitely_ had, but due to the oversized black clothes that Frank always wore, and his own personal reserve to stop fucking _staring_ , he hadn’t realized that Frank was a really tiny dude! Like… _really_ tiny! And Gerard started to admire the tattoos that covered his entire left arm and 3/4 of his right arm. There was also the scorpion on the side of his neck, and Gerard could swear he remembered a few on his stomach and back. He felt the strong desire to push Frank against the wall and trace every single one of his tattoos with his tongue.

The thought then triggered a montage of sex scenes in his head, and he had to tell himself to _stop_ before he sprung a full on woody right then and there. He wasn’t sure if Frank would appreciate that. He willed his semi hard-on down, stood up, stretching slightly, and joined Frank at the window. He pulled his own pack of cigarettes out of his pajama pocket (hey you never knew when you would need to bum a smoke!) and lit one up; sighing at the pure bliss he felt when the smoke filled his lungs.

Frank looked at him carefully.

“What?” Gerard asked, blowing out a stream of smoke.

Frank shook his head, “Nothing.” He flicked the butt of his cigarette out the window before sitting there awkwardly with nothing to do. “You can bum one off me,” Gerard offered. He held out a cigarette between shaky fingers, and when Frank leaned to grab it, Gerard couldn’t help but notice how dangerously low his boxers hung on his hips. He cleared his throat and looked away, focusing on furiously smoking his cigarette.

“Thanks,” Frank sighed, blowing smoke in Gerard’s face. _Oh you little bitch_ , Gerard thought angrily. _You are_ so _doing that on purpose_.

“No problem,” he smiled slightly. “Hey, what time is it anyways?”

“I don’t know,” Frank shrugged, running a hand through his perfectly messy hair. “Probably around ten?” Gerard nodded, and once he was done smoking he flicked the butt out the window and then rummaged around in his suitcase, looking for a fresh pair of underwear.

“I’m just gonna…” and then he went in the bathroom to take a shower. He could feel Frank’s eyes follow him all the way until he closed the door.

XxXxXxXxX

 

He would never admit it to anyone, but (as quietly as he could) Gerard Way had jerked off to the image of Frank Iero when he was in the shower, and not for the first time either. He’d had a hard time admitting to himself that he liked Frank now…but he _would_ admit that he had liked Frank ever since they day they met.

When Gerard came out of the bathroom, Frank was just laying on Gerard’s bed, his hands behind his head, ankles crossed, and his eyes closed. Gerard made a flustered noise and waved his hands around. Frank looked at him and smiled like Gerard was the biggest idiot ever to walk the planet (which he kinda was). He sat up, and moved over. Gerard fell down on the bed in a _humph_ and looked at Frank’s back.

Frank jumped slightly when he felt Gerard’s fingers trailing along his back, but he shivered and closed his eyes, reveling in the amazing feeling. His touch was feather light and cold like snow and brushed right over his bruises. “Your fingers are cold.” He murmured.

“Well you’re hot,” he said, feeling his face turn red, and being thankful that Frank couldn’t see him. “Take that as you will,” he added to make it sound a bit more casual. Frank laughed slightly and Gerard watched his ribcage expand and contract. “Hey, Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“These bruises…” he touched the yellowing spots that decorated his back. “These are old.” He tapped on a few of them, making a pattern, and then touched his ribs. Frank jerked a bit, but he didn’t turn to look at him.

“Yeah,” Frank said stonily. “Those are old, alright.”

Gerard sat up and looked at him, worry written all over his face. “What happened? I mean, you don’t have to tell me but…” his voice trailed off.

“You know my parents are divorced, right?”

“Yeah. Didn’t they get divorced when you were nine?”

“Yep.” He said, taking a shuttering breath. “Do you know _why_ they got divorced?”

“No. I don’t.” He felt kinda bad about that.

“Good.” Then he turned away and dangled his feet off the side of the bed, contemplating leaving or not. He gripped the mattress so hard that his knuckles turned white.

“Okay now you _have_ to tell me.”

“No, Gerard. It’s just gonna make you angry…”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because I hate making you angry. It’s not important.”

“Frank,” Gerard put a hand on Frank’s shoulder and turned him around, looking him straight in the eye and wincing at the tears he saw. They reminded him of that day in the hallway… “I want you to stop thinking you’re not important; you’re my best friend. I get angry when you’re sad and I can’t fix it.”

“There are a lot of things about me that you can’t just fix.” That was a damn lie and he knew it. Everything about Gerard was like a band-aid; Frank just felt safe…he felt untouchable. Gerard made everything better, even when he was just around. Even when he was what was wrong.

“Let me try?”  Frank wanted to give in and just let Gerard handle everything that ever upset him, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let all of this get to him…this was a social experiment after all, right?

“For years my parents had split custody.” He felt his voice catch and damned Gerard to hell for making him cry _again_. “Every other week I’d go be with my dad. I told my mom I didn’t want to go, and she asked me why, but I never told her the truth.” He felt tears fall. “Almost every night he would get drunk, and I’d be so scared. I tried to avoid him, but he never forgot about me.” It was like a stream was just pouring out of his eyes, and he almost couldn’t get the words out. “I begged him to leave me alone, I apologized, I tried to run…but it all just made him angrier. He’d grab anything and just hit me. Over and over again.” His entire body was shaking, and Gerard literally could only comprehend seven of the word’s he’d said, but he understood what Frank meant.

Without even asking, Gerard grabbed Frank and hugged him. He felt Frank’s arms immediately encircle him and latch on tightly. He pulled himself as close as possible and buried his face in the crook of Gerard’s neck. Gerard pet his hair and whispered, “Shh, it’s alright. It’s okay, Frank. Shh, I’m here.”

“And I was _so_ _alone_ ,” Frank sobbed. “Nobody cared.” Gerard honestly had no reply to that; he knew it was his fault that Frank dealt with what he did. If he had been around, maybe Frank would have said something sooner, and most of this wouldn’t have happened. He kissed the side of Frank’s head and just kept petting his hair soothingly. When Frank calmed down enough to where he was just sniffling and running his fingers through the ends of Gerard’s hair, Gerard pulled back and smiled at him.

“Are you mad at me?” Frank asked, looking like he might cry again.

“What?!” Gerard exclaimed. “No! No, of course not. Why would I be mad at you!”

“Because you’re still holding onto me really tightly.” The corner of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a sad smile and when Gerard abruptly pulled away he said, “I never said I minded.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said.

“Don’t apologize.”

“I will apologize as much as I want, Frank!”

“Haha okay, okay!” He smiled and sniffled. “I’m tired,” Frank said. “I think we should go to bed.” Then he got up, being careful not to touch Gerard at all, walked over to his own bed and got under the covers. He smiled at Gerard, “G’night.” And then he turned off the lights.

They lay in silence and then Frank said, “Gerard?”

“Hmm?”

“I feel like I’m sleeping in a puddle.”

Gerard sighed but pulled back his covers, “Get in, loser.”

“We’re not going shopping?” Frank asked as he jumped in the bed next to Gerard who just snorted. “No, we’re not.” He said turning over onto his stomach.

“Then I’m mad you called me a loser.”

“Well, you are!”

“I can’t do much about it, okay? My entire bed is _wet_!”

“I thought you were done having accidents?” Frank smacked him and Gerard laughed, rubbing his arm.

“I was seven, Gee!”

“I’m sorry, Frankie, that was mean.”

“Yeah it was.” He paused for a minute. “I haven’t been called that for eight years. Or called you ‘Gee’ for eight years.”

“It has been a while hasn’t it?”

“Mhmm.” Frank scooted closer to Gerard who shivered at the contact.

“I miss you Frankie.” Gerard sighed as Frank threw his arm over Gerard’s back.

“I miss you, too, Gee.”

XxXxXxXxX

 

“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” The morning is a bit more awkward than desirable. It’s not like Gerard _planned_ to wake up with a boner; no, he was hoping that Frank _wouldn’t_ think Gerard was some weird perv. Granted, the boner _did_ come from a pretty pervy dream about Frank, and the fact that Gerard was in the same bed as Frank didn’t really help the cause at all.

“Dude,” Frank laughed. “It’s fine.”

“No,” Gerard said. “It’s _awkward_.”

“Okay, yeah maybe it’s awkward, but I’m pretty sure you’re not the first guy to ever wake up with morning wood. That’s why they have a name for it.” He made a pretty good point, and with the fact that they basically knew everything about each other (and didn’t have to go through that re-friending process) made the situation _way_ less awkward than it could have been.

“I guess.” Gerard said, shifting uncomfortably, but keeping the covers pulled up to his waist. Frank was already getting dressed, and Gerard kept _staring_ and it just made him so fucking impossibly hard…he needed a cold shower. Or Frank’s face on his face; that was a good option too.

Frank stopped and looked at him, “Do you want me to, like, leave or something?”

“No!” He said a little too quickly. He cleared his throat, “Uh, no. It’s fine. I’ll just take a shower er whatever.” Frank smiled at him, like he knew something Gerard didn’t, and just shrugged.

“Whatever you say, man.” Then he went back to getting his shit organized. He looked in the mirror; his nose was starting to feel a little bit better—although, sneezing still hurt like a bitch—and it wasn’t as dark as before. Plus the cut on his forehead was thin, leaving a small red line. He fixed his nose ring, and then his lip ring, and then ran his hands through his hair to mess it up even more than it was.

“Weren’t you going to take a shower?” Frank asked, looking at Gerard through the mirror. Gerard was definitely only half regretting being caught staring; Frank was just too damn sexy for it to really matter in the grand scheme of things.

“Uh,” Gerard said, looking away. “Yeah…” Then he awkwardly stood up, after conveniently placing a pillow over said morning wood and waddled towards the bathroom yelling, “ _Shut up_!” At Frank who was howling in laughter.

When Gerard was out of the bathroom, and properly dressed for the day (all black as per usual), he found that Frank had already left the room to go down to eat. He frowned, but grabbed his room key and his cell phone.

He was going to text Mikey, but as he was scrolling through his contacts he saw ‘F.’ and felt shocked, but also happy. Whenever they’d write notes to each other in elementary school, Frank always signed his ‘F.’.

He decided to text the number.

 

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_10:31 AM_

_Dude, when th fuck did i get ur number??_

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_10:33 AM_

_I put it in there._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_10:34 AM_

_…why???_

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_10:36 AM_

_Well, I figured tht at some point ur gonna wnt to text me…it’s only cuz ur kinda needy._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_10:37 AM_

_Thnks(?)_

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_10:37 AM_

_Wht r friends for? :D_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_10:39 AM_

_Riiiiiiiiight…hey, y did u leave?_

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_10:45 AM_

_Idk._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_10:46 AM_

_Even ovr txt I no when ur lying to me._

 

And after that, Gerard didn’t get a text back. He figured that Frank had _some_ good reason for acting really fuckin’ strange. Maybe this morning _was_ a bit more awkward than Frank had originally told him. Frank did things like that a lot; lie to protect Gerard from the truth. But why? Well…Gerard would do it for Frank, but why would Frank do it for him? That doesn’t make any sense. Frank was the one who deserved to be protected. He was too amazing to have to deal with all the shit he did/does. He doesn’t deserve it…not at all.

When Gerard went downstairs, he nodded to Brendon, eyed Travis, and grabbed a large cup of black coffee. Today he’d decided to wear tight black jeans, old black converse, and a black Misfits t-shirt. Everyone was looking at him weird, and he had no fucking clue why until everyone was on the bus to the library and he turned to Brendon.

“Why is everyone looking at me weird?” He whispered, glancing behind him only to see nearly every pair of eyes on him. “It’s starting to fucking freak me out.”

“It’s probably got something to do with the way you look.” Brendon said matter-of-factly.

“What?” Gerard’s brows furrowed. “What does that even _mean_?!”

“Well, I’m no homosexual,” Brendon whispered. “But I’d tap that.” What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? That he looked good today? What? That doesn’t even make any sense. Nobody ever noticed him and how he looked.

“What about me looks different today than any other day?”

“Are you wearing eyeliner?” Brendon asked, squinting his eyes like that would help him see better when he was four fucking inches away from Gerard’s face in the first place.

“Uh…yeah, but I wear eyeliner sometimes.” He shrugged and looked away.

“It’s the eyeliner…and your hair.”

Gerard’s hand flew to his head, “What about my hair?!” He asked in a panicked voice. Brendon just laughed at him. “It looks fuckin’ awesome!” Brendon smiled, “You’ve kinda got that whole ‘Mysterious-Dark-Prince-of-Rebellion’ thing goin’ on today. It works for you. Keep that in mind when you’re looking for someone to date in college.”

Gerard rolled his eyes, “I don’t think I want a girlfriend…” He didn’t add _‘like, ever._ ’ but he desperately wanted to. He wanted his friends to accept him for who he was regardless of who he wanted to date—he didn’t want to fall victim to his own nicknames. _Fag_. The word was so ugly.

“Who said anything about a girlfriend?” Brendon’s tone was snarky, and Gerard couldn’t help but wonder what the hell would compel him to say that.

“Why – then why d-did you say that?” For some reason his fucking mouth just wouldn’t make words today.

“Probably because you’ve never had a girlfriend before,” Brendon shrugged, staring out the window. “Or seem interested in having a girlfriend.” Gerard wanted to say something else, but that was when the bus came to a stop. “C’mon,” Brendon gestured for Gerard to follow.

They piled off the bus, were given directions to look up certain things about animals, and then meet back at the bus in 3 hours. Everyone dispersed, most people heading right to the computers, some people heading to the research section, and Frank smartly going to the section about fucking _animals_. (Why couldn’t people use their brains?)

Gerard stared after Frank, and his phone felt heavy in his pocket. He took it out, and glanced at it; nothing. He sighed and shoved it back in his pocket. He still wasn’t done with the bus conversation. As they walked up and down the silent and nearly deserted aisles, Gerard thought it was a good enough time as ever to get the question at hand out of the way. “But…” his brows furrowed. “Why do you assume I’m gay?”

“Gerard,” Brendon looked at him, one eyebrow quirked. “Hayley Gordon asked you to prom last year and you wasted no time in saying ‘ _No_ ’ and running away as quickly as possible.” He laughed, “Do you know how much she complained about having to go with me instead?”

“No, I don’t.” Gerard said. “Because I didn’t go to prom.”

“ _You_ didn’t go to prom because _Frank_ didn’t go to prom.” Gerard’s heart stopped, he tripped over his own feet, and made a choking sound like a dying animal.

“What the fuck, dude?” He asked as loud as he thought he could.

Brendon had stopped in front of a section of books and started to scan their bindings for something about birds. “If you want to know the truth, Gerard?” He asked, not even trying to help Gerard who was literally rolling around on the ground and dying. “Everyone makes fun of Frank because he’s gay, right?”

“R-ii-ight.” Gerard coughed, sucking in as much air as possible.

“But anyone who knows you knows that they might as well make fun of you too. It’s really no big secret to me.” He picked a book off the shelf and opened it, heading towards a table at the end of the row. Gerard dragged himself along, still barely breathing, and slumped into a chair.

“What’s no big secret to you?” He asked, his voice hoarse.

“That you’re a flaming homosexual.” Brendon started to jot down some answers. Just then is when Frank happened to walk past, and luckily Gerard was resting his head on the table, because his expression was sour. “Hi Frank.” Brendon waved, and smiled slightly, then went back to writing.

“Uh…hi?” Frank managed to get out before turning and walking away.

“Dude I swear I’m dreaming right now. I’m in another dimension…the world is ending, hell is freezing over, I _don’t know_ ,” Gerard was talking to the table. “But can you give me _some_ reasonable explanation as to _why_ you’re suddenly being nice to Frank, don’t care that I’m gay, and are completely calm about it?!” He knew his voice was a bit too loud for a library, but aside from when Frank passed them, there was literally no one around them at this point.

“I made fun of Frank for as long as you made fun of Frank,” Brendon said, turning the page. “I knew you liked him; you stare at him all the goddamned time. When you were totally cool with rooming with him, it only confirmed my suspicions. My point was proven even farther when I insulted Frank in front of him…” then he chuckled, closing the book and standing up. “Oh man, you should have seen your face. It was like the world was ending.”

“But why are you so cool with this?” Gerard asked, following him.

Brendon put the book on the shelf and then turned to look at Gerard, “It was difficult at first—to think that my friend who made fun of the gay kid was, in fact, gay himself. Once I got over that, I was wondering when this day would come.”

“What day?”

“The day you finally realized that you wanted to ask Frank out and didn’t really care what anyone else said.”

“I don’t know how or why this happened,” Gerard shook his head. “But I’m actually really fucking glad that someone aside from _me_ knows.”

Brendon shrugged, “No big…hey, don’t you wanna work with him or something?”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Gerard blushed and scratched the back of his head.

“This is gonna be too much fun,” Brendon laughed evilly and walked away. Gerard started to follow, but Brendon stopped so suddenly that Gerard nearly ran him over. “Gerard,” he said, turning around with a worried look on his face. “I need to tell you something.”

“Uh,” Gerard was nervous. “Okay?”

“I’m gay.”

“This is too much,” Gerard said, feeling like he was going to pass out. “You can’t just spring all this shit on me in a matter of ten minutes, Brendon!” Once he stabilized himself, he swallowed and took a deep breath. “So who’s the guy?”

“Why does there have to be a guy?” Brendon asked casually.

“Because there’s _always_ a guy.”

“Fine,” he bit his bottom lip. “You know that kid who’s in band, and, like, is _really obviously_ gay? He wears scarves like all the fucking time.”

“You like _Ryan_?!” Gerard asked, “This is too perfect. How many fucking times did I say that you two would look adorable together?”

“I know!” He said, laughing. “I know what you said, and the more you said it, the more I thought about the fact that I really _did_ like him.”

Gerard’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he nearly dropped it when he tried to take it out.

 

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_12:23 PM_

_wht th fuck was THT all about???_

 

“Who’s that?” Brendon asked, wagging his eyebrows. “Is if _Frank_?”

“Maybe…shut up.” He pushed Brendon in the chest and quickly replied.

 

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_12:25 PM_

_u mean bden?_

 

“Come on, lover boy.” Brendon said. He was carrying a stack of books and went to sit down at the table again. “I’m not gonna make you write anything. You can just _talk to Frank_. I’ll put both our names on the paper.”

“Oh my God you’re a life saver!”

“I do my best.”

 

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_12:30 PM_

_yah. wht the hell?! suddenly hes nice to me?_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_12:33 PM_

_its a LONG story._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_12:38 PM_

_well, ive got time…_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_12:41 PM_

_WHAT?! how?!?!?_

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_12:46 PM_

_i finished the sheet already. dude im good at bio._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_12:49 PM_

_thts ridiculous. u dnt even like bio!_

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_12:57 PM_

_doesn’t mean im bad at it! i have 115% in this class._

_im pretty sure i cud turn in a blank sheet and still pass._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_1:03 PM_

_i hate you. AND WHY AREN’T U WORKING W/ US?!_

_i miss having a not-confusing friend around._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_1:07 PM_

_wht did i say about being needy?? c:_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_1:12 PM_

_hardy har har! and im pretty sure ur not making that face._

_ur sitting against a book shelf w/ ur knees drawn up to ur_

_chest & ur face is completely blank. _

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_1:15 PM_

_how da fuq did u know that?!?!? r u stalking me?!_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_1:22 PM_

_we were best friends fr, like, 8 years. im_

_positive tht i just know these things by now._

_come work with us! or at least give us ur answers!_

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_1:28 PM_

_we were best friends for 7.5 years._

_and if u want answers so badly_

_why don’t u come find me?_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_1:33 PM_

_is tht a challenge?? im pretty sure it is._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_1:36 PM_

_mhmm. u bet!!_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_1:40 PM_

_ur an asshole._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_1:47 PM_

_love u too! see ya in a few!_

_(if you can fucking find me!! c: < MUA_

_HAHAHAHAHAHAH)_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_1:50 PM_

_challenge accepted._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_2:15 PM_

__..._ dude this library is fucking huge._

 


	3. Better Off As Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Gerard!” He was out of breath; he’d been running. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
> 
> Gerard was confused, “Me?”
> 
> “Yes! We have a serious problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Okay, so this is the first smut I've ever written, so please go easy on me!)

Gerard never really _did_ find Frank. At least, not the way he wanted to. He had been walking around since 1:55 and it was currently 2:15. The library _was_ fucking huge as hell, but he was determined; he wouldn’t give up. He passed by Travis, Bill, and Bert who were laughing at something sinister (Gerard could just predict these things by now). His eyebrows furrowed, but he kept walking. When he was on the stairs to go to the 3rd level, Gabe found him.

“Gerard!” He was out of breath; he’d been running. “I’ve been looking for you _everywhere_!”

Gerard was confused, “Me?”

“Yes! We have a serious problem.” He was still trying to recover his breath, and his forehead was sweaty; he wasn’t lying. He really _had_ been trying to find Gerard.

“This problem is?” He was still beyond confused.

“Frank.”

There was ice in Gerard’s veins, “ _Frank_? What about Frank?” He knew he showed much more concern than he should have around Gabe Saporta, but this was fucking _Frank_!  It wasn’t Brendon (sorry, Brendon).

“Bert,” Gabe shook his head.

“ _What_?!”

“Bert, Bill, and Travis found Frank sitting by himself.”

“If they beat him up again I swear to God I’ll kill them.”

“They didn’t.” He said, a grimace on his face. “They did something much worse.”

“What could be worse than falling down the stairs four fucking times? If you don’t tell me what the fuck happened within the next two seconds I’m going to—”

“Back in 9th grade we were in science class and there was this experiment we had to do that involved spiders. Frank was my partner, but he made me do everything. He sat in his seat—on the other side of the room—trying not to cry.” He was talking in a rush to keep Gerard from hurting him

“Yeah, Frank fucking hates spiders,” Gerard said still not understanding. “Whenever he’d sleep over, no matter what time of night it was, if there was a spider in the room, we had to have my mom drive us to his house. Frank _really_ fucking hates spiders.”

“Well, on the fourth floor there’s this small room that’s all about spiders,” Gabe sounded sad, and Gerard started to come to some realization. “There are dead spiders displayed on—” And the next thing he knew, Gerard shoved past him, taking the stairs two at a time, running down the aisle, and up the next flight of stairs. Once he got to the top he had to take a breather, otherwise he’d pass out, but Gabe had caught up to him.

“Where?” Gerard asked, breathing deeply. Gabe pointed, solemnly, down a dark and deserted hallway, and at the end of the hall was a dimly lit room. Something (more than one thing, actually) gave Gerard a really bad feeling about this. He walked slowly and silently as if trying not to wake a sleeping child.

When he finally reached the doorway, he wanted to break down into a never-ending sob-fest. He couldn’t stand to see something so horrible…there was nothing so horribly pathetic and gross and terrifying as this. Not even when Frank was spitting blood all over the floor. The room was circular and there were several bookshelves. On the walls were different diagrams of spiders, and a few displays, just like Gabe had said. But sitting, no, _cowering_ in the middle of the room, hands over his head, rocking back and forth, shaking violently, and breathing unevenly was one strangely delicate and horribly petrified Frank Iero.

“Why didn’t you get him out of here?” Gerard whispered angrily to Gabe.

“I tried!” Gabe said. “He wouldn’t go. He just started screaming!”

“What made you think _I_ could help him?”

“Are you serious, Gerard? You’re that kid’s lifeline. There’s no one, not even his own mother, that could get him outta there other than _you_.” Well goddamnit; if Brendon saw it and fucking _Gabe Saporta_ saw it, then how many other people saw it?

“Well, here goes…” Gerard carefully walked inside and kneeled down, not too close, but not too far away either. “Frank?” Gerard asked. Frank didn’t seem to hear him, or if he did, he chose to ignore him. “Hey, Frank? Is it okay if I touch you?” He blushed at how he phrased the question, but didn’t say anything else.

Frank still didn’t reply, but if he didn’t say no, then it probably meant yes. Gerard was soft when he reached out and touched Frank’s shoulder. Frank flinched, but didn’t look up, and didn’t start screaming. Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank slowly and carefully, ignoring every jerk and flinch. He pulled Frank close to his chest, and started to pet his hair soothingly, like he did the night before. Frank didn’t totally stop shaking, but now it was more like a few shudders here and there.

“It’s okay, Frankie.” He wasn’t sure if Gabe was still hanging around, but Gerard wasn’t quite sure if he would be happy or upset if he was. “Hey, remember that one time we slept over at your house and stayed up for, like, eight hours just eating pizza and watching movies? Or when Mikey asked to hang out with us so we hid in my closet until he went away?” Frank then stopped shivering completely, and stopped crying.

“Do you wanna get pizza tonight? We can just, like, chill or whatever. And, hey! I found you, didn’t I? Challenge completed!” Frank didn’t laugh, but Gerard could hear the glimmer of hope in his voice when he quipped, “You had help. Challenge failed.”

“Well, I tired, and that’s what’s important, right?” He glanced behind him to see Gabe standing there with an encouraging smile on his face. He pointed to his wrist, and Gerard nodded in understanding. Gabe then left, leaving Gerard and Frank alone.

“Hey, Frankie?” Still no reply, “Do you mind if I carry you?” Again: silence. But that was a good thing, because it meant _Fuck yes, Gerard, get me the hell out of here!_ Gerard stood up, grabbed Frank’s arms, and pulled as hard as he could. Frank shot up off the ground, and he caught Gerard by surprise when he jumped and wrapped his legs and arms around Gerard like his life depended on it (Gerard was—selfishly—thinking to himself _I always wanted Frank wrapped around me, but not quite like this…_ ). It took a few seconds for Gerard to gain his balance back, but Frank was relatively light, and easy to carry, so it didn’t really matter.

Gerard carried him out of the room, and immediately Frank relaxed a little. However, he didn’t relent his grip on Gerard’s neck. Gerard walked down the aisle, and then went over to the nearest group of chairs. He went to set Frank down in a chair, but then Frank tightened his grip (if that was possible), as if he were afraid to part from Gerard. “Okay,” Gerard said. “I guess _that’s_ not happening.” He looked around for somewhere to sit, but then figured that getting a hard-on while his best friend was in his lap wouldn’t be a good thing while comforting said best friend, who is fucking terrified.

“Hey Frankie, do you think you can let go of me?”

“No.” Came a muffled reply.

Gerard smiled, and rolled his eyes. “Well you _can_ let go of me, you just don’t _want_ to. I can promise you all the fucking cuddling time you want when we get back to the hotel, but I can’t exactly walk down the stairs with you, y’know, attached to me.”

“What about on the bus?” Gerard blushed at his odd request, but considered it.

“Sure,” he finally said. “Even on the bus.”

“Everyone’s gonna make fun of you.”

“I don’t care.” Frank smiled.

XxXxXxXxX

 

They didn’t cuddle on the bus, like Gerard had actually hoped, but they did sit next to each other and text each other the entire ride back.

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_3:10 PM_

_hi._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_3:11 PM_

_u no u can jst talk to me, right?_

_im sitting directly next to u._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_3:11 PM_

_yah. i don’t want to._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_3:12 PM_

_ur adorable, frankie._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_3:13 PM_

_aww, shucks!! thnks gee. (:_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_3:15 PM_

_haha, see? thts exactly what i mean!_

_ADORABLE!_

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_3:18 PM_

_riiiiight (;_

_But, hey… in all seriousness:_

_thank u. really. i mean…_

_its kinda embarrassing_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_3:21 PM_

_frank. u r my BEST FRIEND._

_i dnt care what th fuck th problem is._

_ill take care of it._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_3:22 PM_

_oh, & im gonna fuckin murder_

_travis, bert, & bill…_

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_3:25 PM_

_im not sure how to feel about tht._

_i wud say ‘thnks’ bt i feel like my_

_mom wudnt approve of tht…_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_3:27 PM_

_eh…she can jst blame me._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_3:30 PM_

_y r u so nice to me?_

_like, honestly…_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_3:34 PM_

_dnt be like tht, frank._

_u really r my best friend._

_i dnt no who else id do_

_tht for._

_just u._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_3:37 PM_

_bt…y now?? y on this trip?_

_i mean, not tht im complaining._

_i appreciate it…bt i dnt deserve it._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_3:45 PM_

_i dnt no wht i hav to do for u_

_to believe ur worth caring_

_about. i cnt explain it right now._

_bt i will. & when i do, i hope ull_

_understand…dude ur my_

_MOTHERFUCKING_

_BEST FRIEND. wht else does_

_that tell u? i care._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_3:47 PM_

_gee…please stop._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_3:52 PM_

_y r u afraid of people caring?!?_

_let them care! let ME care! w/_

_ur permission or not, im gonna care._

_but itd be totally rad if u DID give me_

_permission._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_3:56 PM_

_i dnt. nd im sorry._

_but i dnt._

_its for my personal health._

_try to understand_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_4:00 PM_

_i dnt. & im sorry._

_but i dnt._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_4:03 PM_

_well, tht sucks. a lot._

_but i dnt want u to care_

_so much. life was easier back_

_when…idk._

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_4:06 PM_

_back when i treated u like_

_u were a pile of shit? well_

_maybe it was easier for u…_

_but nowadays is definitely_

_easier for me._

_****_

_Sender: F. (980) 609-8008_

_Recipient: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_4:07 PM_

_cant we talk about this later?_

_****_

_Sender: G. Way (980)788-5000_

_Recipient: F. (980) 609-8008_

_4:10 PM_

_can we?_

XxXxXxXxX

 

Half an hour later he found himself in the unusual predicament of Frank desperately trying to un-friending him. “What the fuck are you even talking about?” Gerard said, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“This whole friend thing,” Frank gestured between them, “Not only should you not talk to me in front of all those people, you should probably also not get too attached.” It was killing Frank to have to say this, but it would help him in the end. He did _not_ want to have to go through the emotional torture of being Gerard’s friend, and then having his heart smashed to pieces and stomped all over.

“But _why_?!” Gerard asked, throwing his hands up exasperation.

“Because I can’t deal with that again, Gerard.” Frank said, sitting down on his bed and putting his head in his hands.

“Deal with _what_?! Will you please just tell me what the fuck is _going on_?!” Why couldn’t Frank just _see_ how Gerard felt? Why did it have to be this whole big performance of ridiculous brainlessness?

“The pain.”

“The pain of what?”

“The pain of losing my best friend.” He looked up at Gerard with a stony look on his face, and Gerard felt his heart sink.

“You’re not going to,” Gerard reassured him.

“You say that now,” Frank shook his head, “But when we get back to school on Monday…I’ll be back to Fag Iero.” Gerard cringed at the name, but he was literally seconds away from his breaking point. Frank needed to know.

“Frank,” he said. “That was a shit nickname, and I don’t really know how to apologize for it but if I could, I would.”

“Like I said, you say that now, but you won’t feel that way—”

“On Monday? You mean, like, four days from now?”

“Yeah…” he shrugged, and scratched his head uncomfortably.

Gerard looked at him, shook his head, and laughed. “Incredible.”

“What?” He asked, giving Gerard the typical ‘whateven-Gerard-I-do-what-I-want’ look.

“I think it’s incredible that you think you can tell me what I’m going to feel.”

“I’m not telling, I’m predicting.”

“You’re still telling me.” He looked away. “Do you not want to be my friend or something? I mean, I would understand _why_ but, I-I thought…”

“Thought what? Things like this don’t happen in real life, okay?”

“Things like what?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Gerard made a frustrated noise and ran his hands through his hair, “Goddamnit, Frank, stop fucking saying that! It _does_ matter. It matters to me now, and it’ll matter to me four days from now. It’ll matter to me four _years_ from now.”

“I can’t do this anymore.” Frank said after a few seconds of silence.

Gerard was ready to scream, “ _Do what?!_ ” He yelled at Frank.

“ _Pretend I’m not in love with you!_ ” Well, Gerard was certainly not expecting _that_ at all! He stood there, eyes wide, a million thoughts running through his head, barely seeing Frank looking at him like he was about to explode.

“Frank do you know why I stopped being your friend in the first place?”

“ _What_?” Frank snapped. “No.”

“Because when I was that young,” Gerard laughed at himself. “When I was that fucking stupid, and I didn’t understand _anything_ …” he kept laughing and he was sure that Frank was about to get up and leave. “I didn’t understand why I felt like I had to be around you every second of my life in order for it to mean anything. I didn’t understand why, whenever I looked at you, nothing else seemed to matter. I didn’t understand why you made me feel like I was going to pass out.” He was pacing again, and not looking at Frank who looked just as shocked Gerard had.

“I didn’t understand why, for years after that, I never really wanted to have a sleepover, or movie marathon, or talk about girls with my other friends. Compared to you?” Gerard looked at him, his expression pained. “I compared everyone to you. They never matched up, obviously. The real reason I hated you was because I was sick of you occupying every second of my day. I wanted you to just leave me alone.” He collapsed into a nearby chair, absolutely exhausted from professing his undying love to his best friend, about eight years late.

“I told you that you gave me something to notice.” He laughed sadly, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I picked on you all the time as an excuse to talk to you…to get to see you. And for the past few years I haven’t been as subtle about blatantly _staring_ at you during class. Fucking Brendon _and_ Gabe noticed, so I was hoping _you’d_ notice, because I was too ashamed to say anything, because, let’s face it, I was an asshole.”

“Was?” Frank asked quietly.

“Am,” Gerard corrected, pushing himself out of the chair and walking to the window. “I _am_ an asshole.” And he would stand there for as long as he had to if it meant that he didn’t have to look at Frank. Behind him, he heard shuffling, and he was sure that Frank was getting up to leave.

However, he was entirely shocked when he felt Frank wind his fingers through his own, and feel the side of Frank’s body pressed closely to his. Gerard looked at Frank, expecting to suddenly wake up from this horribly amazing dream-mare, but Frank had his other hand in his pocket, casually looking out the window. “It’s okay,” he said. “I forgive you.”

“Really?” Gerard asked, not too hopefully.

“Nah,” Frank said, smiling up at him. “But we can just pretend for now.”

XxXxXxXxX

 

“Let’s get some fuckin’ pizza!” Gerard complained about ten minutes later, after having text Brendon to get his ass over there. “Goddamn. I’m so fuckin’ hungry. Shit, man, I could eat four motherfucking pizzas by myself!”

“Two things,” Frank said, seemingly amused by Gerard’s behaviour. “One: you swear a lot when you’re hungry. Two: you’ve tried to eat four pizza’s before, remember? I don’t think the garbage can really appreciated it.” Gerard grimaced at the horribly embarrassing and slightly funny memory. He threw up _everywhere_. It was so gross that it was almost awesome! There was a knock on the door, and when Gerard jumped off the bed to answer, Frank gave him a confused look.

“I figured that we couldn’t eat that much by ourselves,” Gerard explained before disappearing into the hall. Frank looked skeptical, but didn’t argue. From the hall he could hear Gerard greet someone. “Hey! You guys are just stayin’ for pizza right? Because I’m sooo fucking tired.”

“Yeah, sure!” Frank recognized that voice, and he wasn’t sure if he should hide or smile at the fact that Gabe was going to be in their room only a few feet away from Frank. Gabe was associated with bad memories, even if he never was the actual cause of any of them.

“Dude, of _course_ I only planned on staying for pizza! You like to watch too many horror movies.” And naturally Gerard would invite Brendon. Frank wasn’t sure what Gerard was up to, but he was curious and a bit uncomfortable—not angry.

He heard the door close and as Gerard came back into sight he looked behind him and said, “You guys have money right? I’m not fucking paying for four pizzas by myself.”

“Duh,” Gabe said, kicking his shoes off by the table and jumping onto Gerard’s bed.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I just made that?” Gerard asked.

“No.”

“Good choice.” Frank said, smiling but rolling his eyes. Brendon was a bit more reserved when he entered the room. He took off his shoes and then stood around awkwardly. “Well, sit down, motherfucker! You’re making me uncomfortable!” Frank gestured for Brendon to join him. Brendon looked surprised, but smiled brightly and walked over to the bed. When nobody was looking, Gerard looked at Frank and mouthed _Thank you_. Frank just smiled and shrugged.

“Please tell me you already ordered the pizza?” Gabe asked, sitting up and looking at Gerard expectantly.

“What am I, dumb?” Gerard asked. “Don’t answer that.” He said it to all of them, but he pointed to Frank.

“I didn’t say anything.” Frank countered.

“But you were thinking it,” Gerard said, turning the TV on.

“You speak the truth.” Frank agreed, nodding his head. Then he looked at Brendon, “So what is it with you?” It was a blunt question, and if that had been Gerard, he probably would have started crying, but this wasn’t Gerard this was _Brendon_.

“I stopped pretending to hate you when Gerard realized he never did.”

Then there was a knock on the door. “I like this kid, Gerard.” Frank called after him. “You better watch yourself!”

“Whatever, Frank.” Gerard called back. Frank just smiled.

When Gerard came back a few minutes later, he was carrying four boxes of pizza. He handed them out: Frank got cheese— _just_ cheese. Brendon liked sausage and pineapple—what the fuck was wrong with him?! Gabe was infamous for his extra-pepperoni pizza-eating skills—kid was fucking insane! And Gerard was the weirdie who got cheese, pepperoni, and onions.

“What about you, Gabe?” Gerard asked, settling down and opening his box, watching the delicious steam curl through the air. “Fuck yes,” he muttered staring at the pizza greedily.

“What do you mean?” Gabe asked, confused.

“Well,” Gerard’s mouth was full.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Brendon said. His mouth was filled with pizza as well. Everyone laughed and when Gerard swallowed he continued.

“Well, you hang out with Travis, and Bert, and Bill,” Gerard said. “I fucking hate those guys,” he added under his breath. “But you seem to be a pretty good guy. Why do you have friends like that?”

“They weren’t always like that.” Gabe said, already on his second piece.

“Oh God,” Frank said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me the typical ABC Family sob story about how they were really fucking pathetic at one point in their lives, and then they became the biggest assholes to ever exist.”

“But that’s exactly what happened!” Gabe exclaimed.

“When were _they_ ever pathetic?” Brendon snorted in disbelief.

“Back in elementary school.” Gabe shrugged. “They were pretty big losers, and everyone made fun of them. Even back then, Gerard, there was something about you that people liked.”

“I remember that!” Frank said, pointing at Gerard, his eyes wide with realization. “Everyday they would ask if they could hang out with you, but I don’t remember what you said.”

“I think I told them, ‘I’m sleeping at Frank’s house.’ or something like that.” Gerard shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

“And _that_ is the reason they hate you so much, Frank.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“The only goddamned reason they’re picking on Frank was because I liked Frank more than _them_?!” Gerard was disgusted. “It wasn’t just me! _Nobody_ liked them! Not even you!” He pointed at Gabe.

“Oh, I was the worst.” Gabe actually started to laugh. “They still don’t know it was me who got them suspended because they went to McDonalds for lunch all week without telling someone.”

“They probably think it was me,” Frank grumbled, finishing his fifth slice.

“No, they think it was Brendon.”

“What?!” Brendon almost choked. “Are you fucking kidding me?! _That’s_ why they hate me so much?! I never fuckin’ talked to them!”

“Can we get back to the important matter here?” Gerard asked. “They hate _Frank_ , because I don’t? That’s fucked up.”

“They shouldn’t have been surprised.” Gabe said, acting like Gerard should have known this fact before today. “You didn’t just like Frank more than them, you liked Frank more that _everyone_. You guys were fucking inseparable.” Gerard couldn’t help but look at Frank, but Frank wasn’t looking at him. Frank was smiling into his lap, like a fucking schoolgirl who got asked to the school dance.

“I’m thirsty.” Frank said, tossing his empty pizza box on the ground. Then he grabbed his room key and a dollar and left.

“I can’t do this, guys,” Gerard said, putting his head in his hands.

“C’mon, Gerard!” Brendon said, trying to be hopeful. “Remember how we learned about _Predestination_ , er whatever?” Gerard nodded. “Well your love life has been smothered by Predestination. You’re supposed to be with Frank! Even when you ‘hated Frank’,” Brendon added air quotes, “You still liked him more than everyone else. I thought it was just that you hated everyone.” He shrugged. “You just didn’t care about them. Not the way you care about Frank.”

“Damn,” Gerard said, tossing his empty pizza box on the floor on top of Frank’s. “Was it really that obvious?”

“Dude,” Brendon said, also tossing his box. “The only people who _didn’t_ see it were you and Frank.

“Life isn’t even fair.” Gerard said, falling back onto his bed with a frustrated noise.

“That’s why it’s called _life_.” Gabe said. “How about this? Brendon and I are going to leave now, and when Frank comes back, you can politely ask him to discard his pants on the floor and join you in bed.”

“As horrible as that suggestion is,” Gerard said after a second. “It was worded very nicely. Good job, Gabe.”

“I try.” Gabe shrugged, and stood up. “But seriously, Gerard. Think about it!”

“I can’t do that!” Gerard exclaimed, sitting up. “It’s a _bad idea_! What if I hurt him again? Who’ll protect him then? Certainly not me!”

“Hey, he has us now.” Brendon said, hitting Gerard in the head.

“I can’t ask him to fucking _sleep with me_!”

“Why not?” Gabe laughed, pulling his shoes on. “He’d be naked before you finished the question!” Gerard’s face got hot and he felt his blood pressure rising higher and higher and he thought he was going to pass out.

Brendon pulled on his shoes too and then walked over and sat down by Gerard. “Gerard?” He asked softly. Gerard looked at him questioningly. “In all seriousness, I think you should honestly consider telling him exactly how you feel. You love that kid, and I’m damn sure he feels the same way. You can’t just treat someone like shit and expect them to forgive you, but Frank _did_ forgive you. The least you can do is fucking tell the kid how you feel about him!” Brendon was always good at putting things into perspective.

“Thanks.” Gerard smiled.

“If you two aren’t dating by tomorrow, I’m telling everyone you are and then you’ll have no choice. Good night!” Before Gerard could so much as say _What?!_ , Brendon and Gabe had left, and Gerard was alone.

XxXxXxXxX

 

Gerard, not knowing what the fuck he should actually do, had decided that he wanted to spend as much time as possible in the bathroom and just hope that Frank wasn’t awake when he came out. However, seeing as life never really liked Gerard in the first place, he was in no such luck, and found Frank wide awake, a half hour into _Harry_ _Potter_ _and_ _the_ _Prisoner of Azkaban_. When Frank heard Gerard he smiled shyly but pat the space next to him.

Gerard was careful to touch Frank as little as possible when he finally situated himself on the bed—in fact, he was _so_ careful that he didn’t even sit on top of the covers, and dived right into the blankets. A few minutes later, Frank, who was seemingly unpleased with Gerard, elbowed him in the side and whined. “You promised me some cuddling motherfucker, so you better get over here _now_.”

Gerard laughed, “But I’m _cold_!”

Frank sighed and rolled off the bed. “Then I’ll _join_ you.” He climbed under the blankets and pushed his body as far back into Gerard as possible, grabbing Gerard’s arm and draping it over his stomach. He entwined their fingers and sighed deeply, squirming a few times before finally settling down.

Gerard, who was receiving so many mixed signals from this gesture, just decided to ignore any worry he felt, and just revel in the momentary bliss of being pressed against Frank and feeling heat radiate between them. This felt so natural; being with Frank like this. Gerard let the moment get the better of him, and leaned forward to kiss the shell of Frank’s ear before nuzzling his neck and deeply inhaling the wonderful scent that is _Frank_. He smelled like coffee, cigarettes, mint toothpaste, fruity shampoo, and soap. It was the most perfect thing Gerard had smelled in his entire life.

“You know,” Frank said softly, and clearing his throat. “I feel really bad about the relationship between Sirius and Harry. Like, the dude waited fucking _years_ , feeling bad about shit that wasn’t even his goddamned fault. Meanwhile Harry’s just like _Oh fucking Sirius Black! What an asshat! Even though I don’t really know much about what’s going on in his life and how much it fucking sucks, I’m gonna hate him just because people tell me to!_ ” After a few seconds, Gerard wasn’t sure that Frank was talking about the movie anymore.

“All Sirius wanted was to fucking be _with_ Harry who was literally his last hope at some happiness. But _no_. That’s not okay.” Nope. Definitely not talking about the movie anymore… “Sirius has to deal with a fucking ton of family shit while just sitting in Azkaban, patiently and quietly, while it ate away at him.” Frank took a few seconds to just breathe. “So, like, he’s an animagi right? And he’s a wolf. Do you know much about wolves?”

Gerard hesitated before answering, “No. I don’t.”

“Well, wolves mate for life, okay? That also means that they’re really protective of their family and shit and are probably real depressed when they have to deal with being torn away from something they loved. Harry’s so ungrateful.”

“Well, y’know, Frank.” Gerard started. “Harry didn’t know that Sirius felt that way. And once he figured out the entire story behind Sirius, he loved him unconditionally. All he wanted was to make Sirius proud, especially because nobody seemed to _always_ believe in Harry like Sirius did. I don’t think Harry’s ungrateful. I think he’s blind.”

After a few seconds Frank just said, “Harry’s still a whiny little bitch.” Gerard smiled to himself, leaned forward again, kissed Frank’s neck and said, “I know.”

XxXxXxXxX

 

When the movie was fifteen minutes from being over, Gerard said he was getting really tired and that they should go to bed. Frank, who wasn’t told to leave the bed, did anyways and climbed into his own bed before shutting off the light. Gerard listened for about ten minutes while Frank rolled around and tried to get comfortable. He finally let out a frustrated noise, “Gerard?” 

“Come on,” Gerard said, pulling back the covers. Frank jumped in and situated himself much like he did earlier, except he was facing Gerard, and had thrown his top arm and leg over Gerard.

Gerard found that it was a rather compromising position, and knew that if Gabe had been there, he would be getting so much shit about it. However, at that moment in time he couldn’t find it within himself to really care or tell Frank to move.

“Hey, Gerard?” Frank said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t really think Harry’s a whiny bitch.”

Gerard smiled in the darkness, “Good.”

A few seconds later, “Hey, Gerard?”

“Yeah, Frankie?”

“You do know we weren’t talking about the movie right?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Good.” Frank said. Gerard just lay there on his side, one arm wrapped around Frank, the other under his head, trying to desperately control his body’s instinct to move all blood flow to below the waist. Although, it was rather hard considering that Frank had an arm and a leg draped over Gerard, and they were chest to chest, and their dicks were literally a few centimeters away from each other only separated by thin layers of clothing.

He felt Frank’s fingers dancing up and down his spine; it was a feather-light touch, but that was all it took, and suddenly… _bam!_ Instant boner. Frank’s hand stilled, “Oh,” he said, and Gerard was about ready to jump out the window. “Hey, Gerard?” He asked, cautiously sliding his hand down Gerard’s spine and slipping it under his t-shirt.

Gerard felt his breath hitch. “Y-yeah?”

“This is okay, right?” Frank’s fingers were cold when they dragged up Gerard’s back and then down across his ribs.

“Mhmm,” Gerard said in affirmation.

“Good.” Frank pulled his hand out of Gerard’s shirt, and Gerard wasn’t sure if that made him angry or happy. Frank‘s hands snaked their way up Gerard’s chest, meeting behind his neck, and pulling Frank closer; Gerard could feel every ounce of pressure behind the motion, and had to clench his hands to keep from fucking _raping_ Frank right then and there.

Frank and Gerard were eye-level and Frank breathed, “And this is okay?” And before Gerard had time to ask ‘ _What?_ ’, Frank’s mouth was attached to his throat, his tongue expertly lapping at the base of Gerard’s neck.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Gerard moaned, his arm tightening its hold on Frank’s waist, his fingers digging into the flesh at Frank’s hips. Gerard felt his dick getting harder and harder, and thought he was going to fucking _explode_ if someone didn’t do something about it within the next two minutes. Frank kissed his way up Gerard’s neck, and Gerard was positive he was going to have a hickey in the morning; the thought not only made him smile, but made his dick twitch. People were going to _know_ what had happened, and Gerard would wear his hickey like a badge of honor, showing it to anyone and _everyone_ he talked to.

“You didn’t really answer me,” Frank said in between kisses.

“I’m pretty sure that _anything_ you do at this point is o-fucking-kay with me,” Gerard replied breathily. Frank pulled away, and Gerard didn’t have to have night-vision to know that he was smirking. _Time to wipe that smug grin off your face_ , Gerard thought, feeling slightly angry. He quickly shifted so that Frank was on top of him, and smirked at the gasp that Frank let out.

“Hey, Frank?” Gerard asked, carefully running his fingers through Frank’s hair, and brushing his cheek lightly.

“Yeah?” Frank’s voice was thick, and there was something in it that Gerard had never heard before in his entire life.

“Is this okay?” He grabbed Frank’s face and very carefully, very hesitantly, pulled it down to meet his lips. The kiss was sweet, there was passion behind it, but a different kind of passion; the kind you feel after you’ve asked someone to go out with you, or marry you, or tell you they want to move in, and you think to yourself, ‘ _I could live with this for the rest of my life and never be unhappy_ ’.

Frank murmured against Gerard’s lips, “Yeah.” before kissing him again. Gerard pulled back, and examined Frank’s face as best as he could, taking in every small detail; the way his eyebrow quirked up, the curves of his dimples, the defining line of his lips, and the way his nostrils flared just a tiny bit.

“When I was three—”

“Three and a half.” Frank corrected, and Gerard put his hand over Frank’s mouth.

“When I was _three_ , I met this really fuckin’ weird kid who lived down the street. He was tiny, and clumsy, and reckless, and I never really thought I’d be friends with him. He got sick all the time, was absolutely _terrified_ of spiders,” Frank flinched slightly, “tripped over his own two feet whenever he tried going up the stairs too fast, ate my food every time I went to the bathroom then tried to convince me it was fucking _gremlins_ , broke my arm…twice, gave me strep throat, bronchitis, chicken pox, and mono, and he was the craziest fucker ever. He made me scared because he liked to be daring, and climb trees, and shit, and I thought he was gonna die!”

Frank laughed, but didn’t say anything. “I honestly thought to myself _This kid is some bad news, Gerard; stay the fuck away from him_! But I like to be defiant, so I didn’t take my own advice. As the years went on I realized that he was more than just scraped knees, long nights, video games, movies, and comic books. He was my best friend…” Gerard pushed the hair out of Frank’s eyes. “My other half. He was the Pippin to my Merry, and never once made fun of all the dumb haircuts my mom gave me. In fact, one time he even got his own hair cut just as bad so that people would make fun of us _together_.”

He leaned up and kissed Frank very, _very_ softly. “Somewhere along the line…I fell in love with him, but it scared me…it scared me to care about someone so much. I tried to stay away as best as I could, but it really was fucking useless.” Frank rest his forehead on Gerard’s and sighed. Gerard ran his hands down Frank’s chest.

“When _I_ was three and a half—”

“Three.”

“When I was three and a half, this strange kid with dark hair, and almost no social skills, decided that I wasn’t half bad, and became my friend. He really liked Dungeons and Dragons, and Doom Patrol, and Lord of the Rings, but I didn’t really blame him. I may or may not have pushed him off the swing set and broke his arm…twice. However, I _definitely_ did throw up on him once and gave him mono. Then two weeks later I gave him bronchitis. Then two years later I gave him chicken pox, and we stayed home sick together, and right after we recovered from that we both got strep throat _together_ when we went to Patrick Stump’s ninth birthday party and kissed each other on a dare from fucking Pete Wentz.”

Ah, Gerard completely forgot about that.

“I knew I wanted to be with this kid forever, whether as friends or something more. But he left me, and I’m still not sure I quite understand, but I cared too much about him to care about my own happiness.” The words were like knives in Gerard’s heart. “He was such a fucking asshole, and on a number of occasions my mom has suggested telling him to stick it where the sun don’t shine. She started calling him _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ when I told her that hearing his name made me uncomfortable.”

Gerard wasn’t sure if he should laugh or… “But I was her only son and she just really cared about me, I guess, but something about her trying to comfort and protect me left me feeling vulnerable.” He shrugged, picking at a thread on Gerard’s shirt. “It’s probably because I cared about her _sooo_ much, and I absolutely loved her…but not like I loved him. I never loved anyone like I loved him.”

And Gerard couldn’t help it…neither of them had said it directly, but it must have been _killing_ Frank not to hear.

“Frankie, I—” but he was cut off by an earth shattering kiss that made his head spin, and his stomach turn. It was intense, and everything Gerard wanted, plus a bit he didn’t know he wanted until that very second. It made him want to cry…and it turned _very_ dirty, _very_ quickly.

Frank grabbed at Gerard’s shirt, and after a few seconds, Gerard (reluctantly) broke the kiss and sat up to quickly remove it. Frank also took the opportunity to remove that particular item of clothing, and the second it was over his head, Gerard’s lips were at his neck, biting, licking, kissing, and sucking. Frank hissed, and arched his back, letting his head roll to one side.

Gerard took advantage of the moment, and pulled Frank tight against him, nibbling at the spot directly under his jaw (which Gerard—of course—knew was a sensitive spot for Frank). When Gerard shifted slightly, he felt his eyes bug out; Frank’s dick…was fucking hard as fuck. “Fuck,” Gerard mumbled against Frank’s neck. Frank laughed breathily, and decided to test a theory. He liked to call this theory, The Theory of Relative Friction. The theory stated—Gerard Way _will_ say ‘FUCK’ exactly eight times in a row if Frank Iero does this:

He pushed against Gerard and grinded his hips down, their hard-on’s rubbing together through their pants. Gerard made a rather embarrassing squeaking noise, but when Frank did it again, Gerard muttered, “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…” Yes! Exactly eight times, just like Frank predicted.

“H-hey, G-Gerard?” Frank asked, panting heavily and trying to keep from moaning so loud the entire state would wake up.

“Yeah?” Gerard mumbled against his neck, sucking particularly hard on the very side of his neck so fucking _everyone_ would see it tomorrow…fuck. Frank drew his hands up Gerard’s back, his fingernails leaving long red lines in their wake.

His fingers tangled themselves in his hair, he pulled Gerard up, and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “ _Touch_ _me_.” Gerard went completely still, his hands resting on Frank’s hips, not even breathing, and not even blinking. Frank pulled back and looked Gerard directly in the eyes and, not breaking eye contact, grabbed Gerard’s hand, wrapping it around his dick. “Touch me.”

And that was all the invitation Gerard needed.

He pushed Frank onto his back, and his fingers only hesitated for a second before hooking around the waist band of his pants and underwear, and pulling them down in one swift motion. All he could do was sit there and stare, his fingers twitching slightly, wanting to _touch_ , to _taste_ …wanting _all_ of Frank.

Frank didn’t say anything, or try to cover himself; he just watched Gerard’s face with interest. After a few seconds, Frank held his hand out, and Gerard cautiously crept forwards, leaning over Frank.

“Frank, I…” he stopped and shook his head in disbelief. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Frank put a finger over his mouth to silence him.

“Touch me.” He said again. Gerard leaned down and kissed him. Slowly at first, but it quickly turned to teeth gnashing together and heavy breathing and _oh my God am I seriously touching Frank’s dick?!_

Frank’s back arched as electricity shot through his body and he gasped and moaned as Gerard’s hand started to slowly move up and down. “Fucking hell, Gee.” Frank moaned, his eyes shut. Hearing his name in that tone, knowing Frank would come under his fingers was all the thought that Gerard needed before moving his hand faster and faster and kissing his way down Frank’s chest. His mouth closed over one of Frank’s nipples and he barely nipped before Frank’s hand tightened in his hair, and Gerard just knew.

“Come on, Frankie.” Gerard said. “Come for me, Frankie.” Frank let out this sound—sounding like a fucking porn star—before releasing all over Gerard’s hand. Gerard stroked him through his entire orgasm, kissing him softly, and trying to drown out his cries of pleasure (because he’d rather _not_ get moved to a different room, thank you very much).

“Shit.” Frank said, breathing heavily. After a few seconds he pulled his boxers up, threw his pants on the ground, kissed Gerard, and pushed him onto the pillows. “You’re welcome.” Frank said before grinning mischievously and licking a fat wet stripe down Gerard’s chest, coming to a stop when he was inches away from his erection.

Gerard couldn’t breathe; the sheer anticipation was going to kill him.

Frank pulled Gerard’s pants off and threw them on the ground. Then he pulled Gerard’s boxers down and his breath caught in his throat when he was finally staring Gerard’s dick right in the face. Frank licked his lips and grabbed his cock. Gerard gasped at the contact, and nearly passed out when he felt Frank’s hot, wet mouth close around the head of his dick.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…” Ah, so the Theory of Relative Friction applied here as well? Fucking _yes_! Frank hummed around Gerard’s dick, sinking farther and farther down, swallowing his entire cock before pulling off almost completely. He started to use his mouth and his hand, twisting, licking, nipping, blowing, sucking, squeezing, pulling, _anything_ that would make Gerard say _dirty, dirty things_.

“Oh, fuck, Frankie, fuck.” He moaned, his fingers in Frank’s hair. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Frank. Oh my God, fuck yeah. Fuck _yes_!” Frank hummed again, and smiled at the sound Gerard made. He squeezed and sucked as hard as he could, and felt Gerard tense. Frank looked up just as Gerard came and everything inside of him did this stupid little flip-flop at how beautiful he was. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and stuck up in random little tufts, his eyes were closed, and his mouth was wide open—absolutely no sound was coming out. This was, basically, the best ‘O’ face Frank had ever seen.

Hot white ribbons of come shot down Frank’s throat, and he sucked and sucked and sucked until there was nothing left, pulling off Gerard with an audible _pop_. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and smiled wickedly at Gerard.

“Oh my God, come here.” Gerard grabbed Frank and pulled him down for an intense kiss. There was tongue, and the taste of come and overall it was just a _good_ kiss. After Gerard had pulled his boxers back up, he lay there, Frank resting on his chest, hands in Frank’s hair, stroking softly. “You know,” Gerard started. “I always thought this was tacky, and a horrible thing to say after sex but…Frankie, I love you.”

Frank craned his neck up and kissed Gerard softly. “I love you too, Gee.”

“I _would_ have said it sooner, but I found that I was a bit preoccupied.” Frank just laughed and snuggled back down against Gerard’s chest.

“Brendon said that our love-lives were smothered by Predestination.” Gerard paused, “Do you think so?”

“All I know is that you asked me to marry you, and I’m tellin’ you, man; I completely fucking accept.” Gerard laughed. “Can we do this every night?” Frank asked, looking up at him hopefully.

“We can do this every fucking _hour_ if you’re up to it.”

“Hmm,” Frank scrunched up his nose. “Maybe every _two_ hours.”

“Okay, Frank.” Gerard smiled at him lovingly. “You can do whatever you want.”

“What if I want you?”

“That works too.”

They lay together in silence, and just when Frank thought he was going to drift off to sleep, Gerard whispered. “I hate in movies, when things like this happens, and nobody ever makes it official.”

Frank sighed, “Hey, Gerard?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Then Gerard opened his mouth to say something, but Frank cut him off. “Hey, Gerard?”

“Yes, Frankie?”

“ _Go to sleep_.”

“Okay,” he said. Then he added, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

**THE END**


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